


Possessive

by professorjjong



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Angst, Consensual encounter turns noncon, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, M/M, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, Pls take care;;;;, Smut, but no one in fandom uses that so....... here we are, i guess this is where i just randomly write things relevant to the fic, i'd think so, or just useless things of course that's also an option, tbh i only know how to use ff.net, tw: non con, tw: sexual assault, wow i have no idea how to use this lmfao, you can make multichaptered fics here right
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2018-11-04 13:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10991490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professorjjong/pseuds/professorjjong
Summary: Love can be rather hard to define.





	1. Theirs

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from livejournal.
> 
> so i came up with this idea at ~7pm on valentine's day. unfortunately, it is no longer valentine's day where i am but if it is where you are, congrats, here is some valentine's day angst. if it is no longer valentine's day where you are, congrats, here is some post-valentine's day angst. it is so angsty even i got sad. but i'm also overly sensitive. so.

“K-Kibum… that feels so good. _Fuck_.”

Kibum lets it get to his head, tattoos Jonghyun’s blissed-out moans to his brain. They are naked on a hotel bed, the room itself heavy and hot with the scent of Jonghyun’s heat and the sweet wetness from his hole. Kibum licks his lips, taking the taste back again into his mouth before he reaches downward toward the inside of Jonghyun’s thighs and somehow draws his legs even further apart.

“Fuck, Bum,” Jonghyun grunts, his fingers digging into the base of Kibum’s neck. His other hand is wrapped around his own dick, which he pumps frenziedly, hurried wet squishes sounding and echoing into the bedroom between the hard smacks of Kibum’s hips meeting Jonghyun’s skin.

Kibum wants to speak, and _fuck_ he knows what words he would say. He would lower his voice until it nears a growl, and tell Jonghyun that “ _Your ass is mine… Fuck, Jonghyun, do you hear me? Your tight ass is mine. I’m going to make you cum so hard you’re going to forget everything except the feeling of my dick in your ass_.”

Instead, Kibum is distracted by the dark purple bite-mark at the base of his neck. Jonghyun’s head is angled to the side, exposing the bruise in its massive, dark glory to Kibum. A bead of sweat slides across the bruise and, unthinking, Kibum leans downward to run his tongue over it. Jonghyun shudders and lets out a soft whimper.

The mark is older than its dark color and large appearance make it seem. A week, at least. The teeth marks are barely visible, but they’re definitely present. Kibum opens his mouth and pulls his lips past his teeth. He wonders if he can sink his teeth right into those marks, if he can make it black and aching again.

He pushes forcefully into Jonghyun, making him gasp—but before he can even finish that one gasp Kibum’s cock is pressed up against his prostate again. Kibum makes energized, stabbing thrusts that bang the headboard against the wall and push Jonghyun up the bed.

“That’s good, Bum. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Kibum decides against digging his teeth into the same place. Instead, he’ll bite Jonghyun on the opposite side—so deeply he’ll draw blood and the teeth marks won’t fade. Then he’ll bite him again on the side of his neck, higher up so not even a turtleneck would cover it. The kind of mark Kibum could blow softly on days later and it would still make Jonghyun shudder.

Jonghyun shifts in place, removing his hand from Kibum’s neck and instead using it to push himself up on the pillows. Yes, _yes_. Like this, if Kibum just lowers himself he can bite him and—

“I’m gonna fucking cum, Kibum,” Jonghyun hisses. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do you w—”

“Don’t stop. Keep fucking me, okay? Don’t stop fucking me.”

Kibum nods, biting down on his bottom lip and focusing his attention on his hips, on pushing into Jonghyun’s heat. He can still taste Jonghyun on his lips, his chin is covered with his now-drying juices from when Kibum had eaten him out before. And _fuck_ it had been too goddamn long since he had tasted that, since he had been in bed with Jonghyun like this. He doesn't want to forget it, he doesn'’t want to go another day without Jonghyun’s taste in his mouth.

He wants to kiss Jonghyun, wants to wrap his lips around Jonghyun’s. He wants to explore Jonghyun’s mouth again, to map it out with its tongue. He cannot forget what Jonghyun tastes like, what their mouths feel like together—and he cannot forget this sight. Jonghyun, small and huffing beneath him, his face scrunched in pleasure. The bead of sweat that slides along his jawline before dropping to his chest. _Don’t forget that, Kibum._

_Don’t forget you’re the one making him feel so good, don’t forget that. Don’t forget that you’re about to make him cum._

_Do it, Kibum, make him cum. Make him cum so hard he forgets everything but the feeling of your dick in his ass. So hard he forgets everyone else._

“Bum… Bum Bum fuck I’m fuck…” Jonghyun’s words are swallowed by the low, guttural grunt that emerges from the base of his throat as he cums. It spurts upward, splashing hotly against Kibum’s stomach.

Heat twists in Kibum’s abdomen. Jonghyun has grown infinitely tighter around him, careening Kibum toward orgasm. But he holds back, pushes against the building pressure. He can’t come yet, he hasn’t seared this into his memory yet: Jonghyun post-orgasm, red and breathing even harder than before, both hands thrown over his head. His eyes are closed tightly, brow furrowed, mouth partially open and lip swollen from where he had been biting down into it.

Kibum imagines he had kissed Jonghyun’s lips, that he was the reason they were swelling right now. He remembers the first time they had kissed—how the smell of Jonghyun’s heat had gushed through his senses as Jonghyun crossed the couch of their dorm room toward him. He remembers how the scent had pressed against his throat, and how his lips were buzzing with nervousness before Jonghyun kissed him like the whole fucking world would have ended if he didn’t do it in that exact second.

“W-wait, Bum?”

The memory vanishes from Kibum’s memory, wiped away by Jonghyun’s voice. It is somehow clear, just barely straining from the force of Kibum’s hips. He relents, drawing back a little before speaking. “Yeah?”

“You’re wearing a condom, right?”

“Yeah,” Kibum breathes. “Of course.”

“Just making sure,” Jonghyun replies. His heat has probably almost faded—it shouldn’t be a shock, really. The heats of mated omegas are usually short, anyway, and Jonghyun’s had already started over a day before now, and had already smelled weak when Kibum had stepped into the hotel room about an hour previous. “You can cum inside, then.”

Kibum nods, holding back the sheer joy sliding through his veins at the permission Jonghyun had given him. Sure, he would still be cumming into a condom but… it was better than even jacking himself off onto Jonghyun’s stomach. Jonghyun might _feel_ it, the rush of Kibum’s cum as he orgasms, brought on by Jonghyun’s own tightness and how fucking beautiful he looked at that moment. How beautiful he looks at this moment, worn from sex but with clear eyes looking directly at Kibum, only at Kibum.

Jonghyun is the kind of man would looks beautiful at any moment. Jonghyun is beautiful putting dishes away in only a tank-top, pushing up onto his toes to put the bowls on the top shelf. Jonghyun is beautiful tuning his guitar in the sunlight on campus, where the sunlight runs its fingers softly through his hair. Jonghyun is beautiful on the bus, dozing against the window—even if he drools a little. And he is beautiful at the altar, a single round tear sliding down his cheek as a golden ring is eased onto his ring finger.

With these thoughts, Kibum cums, sliding into the electric pleasure in his groin. He sighs, lowering his head as he empties himself into Jonghyun. He wants to stay there longer, but pulls himself tenderly out of Jonghyun once he is finished. Backing off on his knees, he removes the condom. “Feeling alright?”

“Yeah,” says Jonghyun with an exhale. Kibum isn’t looking at him, instead searching the room for a trash can. “I think I’m going to shower.”

“Okay,” replies Kibum, pushing off the bed and making his way over to the trash can, which is beneath the desk on the opposite side of the room. “I’ll shower after you, then.”

“I’ll be quick,” Jonghyun chimes. The bedsprings squeak as Jonghyun eases himself off. Kibum slows his steps, taking great care to only throw the condom into the trashcan after the bathroom door clicks shut behind Jonghyun.

By the time the shower water clicks on, Kibum has gathered his clothes from where they were strewn about the hotel room and folded them on the bed. He curses himself for not having the forethought of bringing in a robe from the bathroom earlier and settles himself onto the side of the bed they didn’t fuck in. He draws the covers up to his hip and unlocks on his phone, which he had fished out of his jean pockets.

Taemin had sent him a message about forty minutes prior, asking what he was up to. Kibum texts back a quick reply— _sorry i’m with jjong right now_ —and is scrolling down Facebook when Taemin’s reply arrives. _:/_

Kibum ignores him for now, raising a hand to scratch at the drying remnants of Jonghyun’s wetness on his chin. It sort of hurts to pick at so he gives up after a while, pushing it to the back of his mind as he absentmindedly switches to Instagram and waits for the water to turn off.

Jonghyun’s shower ends after about five minutes, and less than thirty seconds later he emerges from the bathroom, robe tied loosely at the waist and a towel in his hands. “Your turn,” he says. “I’ll order pizza.”

“Nah, it’s okay, I think I’ll just head home after this.”

Jonghyun shakes his head. “Hell no you’re not. I need to thank you for taking care of me in my heat.”

Kibum snorts. “Jonghyun, there’s—”

“Come on, Bum,” Jonghyun says, his voice sincere. “We haven’t talked in ages. It feels that way, anyway.”

Kibum wants to stare at Jonghyun silently, stare until it gets uncomfortable. Until Jonghyun averts his eyes and says _fine, you can leave_. Until Jonghyun gets so angry himself he leaves once he is dressed, and Kibum can step out into a clean and empty hotel room after his own shower.

Instead, Kibum lets out a sigh. “Okay. I’d like—”

“Onions and red peppers, I know,” interrupts Jonghyun cheerily. “Now go shower, I’ll order.”

Kibum grabs his clothes and, avoiding direct eye contact with Jonghyun, considering his naked state and the beads of water that trickle down Jonghyun’s skin, sliding between his muscular chest and creating little lines that intersect his muscular abdomen, makes his way into the bathroom.

His shower isn’t as short as Jonghyun’s but isn’t long either. About ten minutes. This hotel has bar body soap, and one of the two bars had been opened and was sitting on its little tray, underside lined with bubbles. Kibum stares at it for a while before taking it carefully into his hand. He holds it, cupping his hand so that it won’t slip out, then uses it to clean himself.

After he leaves the shower he turns back inside, still dripping wet, and opens the unused bar, running his hands over it until it suds.

When he heads back into the hotel room, Jonghyun is dressed. He has also placed the covers back on the sheets and spread a spare blanket on top. The layers plus the light smell of soap wafting off both men covered the smell of Jonghyun’s heat almost flawlessly.

Jonghyun is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding the remote in his hand. “When Harry Met Sally just started. And the pizza should be here in about ten more minutes.”

“Sounds good,” says Kibum, easing sitting down beside Jonghyun. “I like this movie.”

Jonghyun chuckles. “Yeah, I know you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kibum replies, brows furrowing.

“Nothing, just that I know you. Maybe better than you know yourself.”

Kibum scoffs, hoping that comes across as nonchalantly as it should because _fuck_ his heart is pounding so goddamn fast it's a miracle it hasn’t already given out on itself. Does Jonghyun know? If he does, why is he letting this happen, is he maybe—

“How long have we known each other?”

Kibum bites down on his lip, keeping his relief from taking on physical form as a sigh. “Almost eight years.”

“Wow,” Jonghyun breathes, leaning back on one of his hands. Kibum looks at him through the corner of his eye. Jonghyun lifts a hand and places his thumb into his mouth, teeth pressing against it softly. “That’s a really long time.”

Kibum nods and turns back to the movie. “Yeah, it is.”

The pizza arrives earlier than expected. Kibum finds himself halfway through his first slice mere seconds after placing the box on the bed. He slows, chewing carefully. Jonghyun will think there’s something going on if he just rushes to eat and leaves without waiting to finish the movie. They haven’t really talked in a while but Kibum is sure Jonghyun still knows he doesn’t have to go to work or anything after this.

And sure Kibum could just lie and say he has plans or something but…

When they’re both two slices in, Jonghyun asks, “Who are you going through your heats with?”

Kibum raises a hand to cover his mouth, “Taemin.” When Jonghyun blinks in confusion, Kibum swallows and continues. “You know him. Skinny, works in my building. He ran into a door at my Christmas party last year trying to escape from a bug.”

Jonghyun snorts at the memory. “Yeah, I remember him. I didn’t know you guys were close.”

“He moved into my building a few months ago. I smelled his heat and we’ve been going through our heats together ever since.”

“Ah.” Jonghyun folds the last bite of his pizza in half and pops it into his mouth before reaching around for a napkin. Kibum reaches it first and hands it to Jonghyun. “Are you guys in sync?”

“Not yet, but we’re only off by two or three days.”

“You’ll probably get there soon, then,” says Jonghyun. “I guess your hormone levels are kind of close to each other, which is why it’s taking so long… It was almost immediate with us, right?”

Kibum places the uneaten half of his pizza on the top of the cardboard box. His appetite has vanished. “It only took us two months.”

Silence falls over the pair and Kibum looks back at the movie but can absorb none of it. In his peripherals, Jonghyun is holding a slide of pizza limply in his hand. Eventually, Jonghyun speaks up in a soft voice. “Is it wrong that I miss when we were synced up? When we went through our heats together?”

Kibum chuckles lifelessly, a crushing weight pressing against his chest. “You’re mated now, Jonghyun. Your body is trying to match with an Alpha’s rhythm, not the heats of other Omegas.”

Jonghyun sighs. “I know that, I just… I got really used to being with you. We barely see each other anymore, and now I even miss us being in heat together.”

Kibum’s heart is pounding in his fingertips as he raises a hand and places it on Jonghyun’s back. He hates this, he hates how this makes him feel like his ribs are closing in on each other, hates the fact that he’s Jonghyun’s _friend_ and this is what he has to do.

Jonghyun, oblivious as ever, tosses his slice back into the pizza box and pushes it toward the opposite end of the bed. He fills up the empty space by sliding toward Kibum, leaning his head onto Kibum’s shoulder. The need to pull away from Jonghyun squeezes at Kibum’s lungs, bashes around in his skull. He doesn’t want to touch him like this, doesn’t want to be with him like this, doesn’t want to hold Jonghyun and say he misses him when he’s actually trying to stay the fuck away from him, trying to hold back on the same feelings that have been squeezing at his heart for the past eight years.

“Thanks for being with me during my heat this time, Kibum,” Jonghyun mutters.

“It’s no big deal,” says Kibum just as quietly. “I’m surprised Minho was okay with it.”

“There are lots of mated Omegas who go through their heats with other Omegas, you know,” says Jonghyun matter-of-factly. “It’s really hard to go through your heat alone after you’ve been mated—even worse than it was before, trust me. Sure, it’s not as long but… the need is different, and so much worse. A toy and my own hand don’t even come close to satisfying, but, with another Omega, it’s bearable.

“Minho was supposed to come home earlier but some stuff came up so he won’t be back for a few more days… I talked to him about my heat earlier and he said he’d be okay with you helping me out, as long as we went somewhere else.” He raises his hand weakly as though gesturing at their surroundings. “So here we are. This is the third time you’ve helped me out since Minho and I got married—the, what, sixth? since we've mated, so I think it’s fair to say that he’s fine with it.”

Kibum tries to shrug but Jonghyun’s weight is still pressed against one of his shoulders. “I guess so.”

They sit in silence for longer and Kibum is wondering how the hell he can get out of this situation. The movie is a little more than halfway through but he can probably use that excuse that he already has plans. He could mention it now, say he has to leave in ten minutes, and then leave… they’ve already talked enough, they’ve already fucked, they’ve already eaten—it should be fine now.

“I want to ask you something… is that okay, Bum?”

 _No_. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“I was thinking about talking to Minho about having kids.”

Kibum’s heart is set on fire. He turns to Jonghyun so abruptly Jonghyun falls forward from his shoulder to Kibum’s chest before he can straighten. “Y-you’re pregnant?”

“What? No—I just finished my heat, Bum, of course I’m not pregnant.”

This doesn’t slow Kibum’s heart or relax the muscles tensing in his arms or the knots tying in his stomach. Fuck. Fucking hell. “But… Minho’s gone all the time.” Kibum’s mouth is working on his own, his brain somehow able to string together a cohesive sentence despite the fact that he feels like the entire world should have fucking stopped turning on its axis at this moment—that his brain should have just short-circuited and given up because like _hell_ he wanted to be having this conversation.

“That’ll end soon,” Jonghyun explains. “Minho is up for promotion and should get it by mid-spring when one of the older workers retires. He’ll only travel once or twice a year after that, and only for a week or so at a time.”

Now Kibum’s brain has stopped working. He feels like his mouth has been burned with acid but still manages to breathe, “Jonghyun…”

“I know, I know,” Jonghyun sighs. “It’s a really big step and all, and we’re still young and stuff but… I don’t know, I think we’d be really good dads. I mean, you should see Minho with Sodam’s girls—he’s absolutely amazing with them. And since I write it’s not like I’ll be giving up a desk job to have kids. Sure, I might have less time to write, but that’s okay because Minho is also getting a salary boost with his promotion. And we have this huge apartment, Kibum, since it was a gift from Minho’s parents and Sodam isn’t going to have any more kids so I talked to her—she’s the only other person I’ve talked to—and she says she still has cribs and strollers and stuff lying around so… I think we can do it.”

Kibum wants to cry. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Jonghyun nods sheepishly. “For the past couple of months, yeah. I want it.” He pulls his hand inward, grasping his t-shirt over his heart. “I’ve thought about having a little baby… with Minho’s eyes and his nose. I’ve thought about us re-doing the spare room and painting it this really pretty shade of blue-green.” His hand drops to rest open-palmed against his abdomen. “And I’ve thought about having a baby in here… I know what type of music we’d listen to together when the baby’s in me; I try to sleep on my side like you’re supposed to when you’re pregnant; I think about what it will feel like when they move inside me… and I’ve never felt it before, but I feel really empty without it.”

Jonghyun’s cheeks are pink and he smiles and chuckles nervously. “I think I’m sort of baby crazy.”

Kibum must be too, then, because he’s thought of this too. He’s thought of this—every single fucking part of it. About how they would fight over who should be pregnant first and Jonghyun would probably win because Kibum has a full-time job. About how Kibum would take care of him; buy him new clothes and comfortable shoes and indulge every weird craving in the world. About a little baby with Jonghyun’s eyes and nose in a little bedroom, the walls of which they had fought over a lot more than they should have. About how they’d have to have at least one more baby and Kibum would be pregnant that time, and maybe a third after a while.

Kibum had watched Jonghyun fall in love with Minho the way Jonghyun was supposed to fall in love with him. He had watched Jonghyun marry Minho when it was supposed to be Kibum sliding the ring onto his finger.

And now… now he was supposed to stand back and watch Jonghyun have the family _they_ were supposed to have, but have it with someone else.

No, not even stand back, but be Jonghyun’s best friend through it all. Just like he had stood beside him when Minho and Jonghyun's relationship began, as he comforted Jonghyun when Minho was away, as he had to force himself to smile at the engagement band on his finger and try to ignore how possively Minho's hand wraped around his hip.

“I’m sure Minho will agree with you.”

Jonghyun blinks. “Y-you think so?”

Kibum nods numbly. “Yeah. If you talk to him the way you just talked to me, there’s no way he could say no to you. I think you guys would be good parents, too. Minho’s a pretty great guy, and you’re not bad either.”

Jonghyun swats Kibum’s shoulder playfully. “Not bad?”

“Not bad,” repeats Kibum.

Jonghyun finally eases back, allowing Kibum room to breathe—room to collapse, really, because that was all Kibum wanted to do at that moment. But he doesn’t, he can’t, he holds himself together.

“Once I’m pregnant, I won’t go through heat for a while,” he observes aloud. “So we’ll have to be like normal friends and meet up just because we want to see each other, not for sex.”

 _I don’t think I can be your friend anymore._ “Yeah, I guess so.”

They finish the movie without talking—Jongyun probably because he is lost in thinking about his future baby, or how he’ll talk to Minho when he gets back; Kibum because if he opens his mouth again he knows he’ll just cry. He cannot hold back any longer, not after all these years of fucking loving Jonghyun and watching some guy with a pretty smile and Alpha cock take him away.

As soon as the credits begin, either by miracle or some malign stroke of fate, Jonghyun’s phone rings. He reaches it for it and his face breaks into such a wide smile Kibum already knows who it is before he speaks. “It’s Minho.”

Kibum rises from the bed. “I’m gonna head out, Jjong… Call me?”

Jonghyun nods repeatedly, holding the still-ringing phone carefully between his palms. “Yes, I will! Thank you again, Kibum.”

“No problem,” mutters Kibum, putting on his shoes and making his way to the hotel room door. Before he leaves he hears: “Minho? Hi… God, I miss you… I love you…”

Kibum just barely keeps his shit together long enough to take the elevator to the first floor of the hotel, where he saw a bathroom earlier. He slides into one of the stalls and, leaning against the door, throws his head back as the first tears burn at his eyes.

After a few minutes, he wipes them away with some toilet paper and texts Taemin to come get him.


	2. His

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cross-posted to live journal.
> 
>  
> 
> Helllllloooo
> 
> so it took me 70 years to get to this point for a variety of reasons. shinee came across the globe and i went across the country for them. i've had six tests. i have a job. my life is hard yadayadayada. it may be /much/ later than i thought i would get this out but, here it is, chapter 2 of this au.
> 
> new character as well as a new ship--Onew/Key. *throws confetti*
> 
> anyway. i give.

It wakes Kibum up almost two hours before his alarm is meant to go off. His heat—the beginnings of it. Electricity buzzes over his skin while his insides knot together with a familiar yet unsettling need. “Fuck,” he mutters, reaching for his phone on his bedside table to call Taemin.  
  
Kibum times his breathing to the hum of the ringing phone. He is about to hang up and march down to Taemin’s apartment himself when Taemin finally answers. His voice is tired, yes, but not groggy like how it normally sounds when his sleep is interrupted. “ _I swear to god, Kibum_ —”  
  
“My heat’s started,” Kibum spurts before Taemin has the proper time to harass him.  
  
There is a beat, a brief pause as Kibum’s words finally click in Taemin’s head. “ _What_?” he hisses into the receiver. The sound of pages being angrily turned pops loudly against Kibum’s ear. “ _But that’s five whole days early for you! What the fuck_?”  
  
“You keep track of my schedule?” Kibum asks teasingly, swiping a hand over his forehead to catch the sweat beading there. He wipes his hand over his covers, which he’ll have to wash soon enough, anyway. “That’s sweet.”  
  
“ _How the fuck are you five whole days early this month?_ ” Taemin swears. A thud sounds as he slams his planner shut. “ _It’s because you went and fucked a mated Omega, isn’t it? For the love of—_ “  
  
“Oh shut up. If this had anything to do with fucking mated Omegas, I would already be messed up because I’ve been fucking you regularly for the past five months.”  
  
Taemin only grumbles in response.  
  
Kibum continues, “Maybe it’s stress, but who knows.” He drops his hand underneath the covers, where he traces his abdomen lightly, fingers teasing the sensitive skin above his briefs. “Can you just get over here and fuck me, please?”  
  
“ _Fuck, Bum_ ,” Taemin exhales heavily. “ _I can’t. I’m leaving to visit home today because of the long weekend. I’m at the airport right now waiting to board. And I won’t be back until Monday night._ ”  
  
“Fuck,” Kibum echoes. “I forgot all about your trip.”  
  
“ _Maybe we wouldn’t be in this predicament if you weren’t throwing your fucking pussy at mated—not even just mated, actually—but a certain_ married _Ome—_ ”  
  
“You shut the fuck up, Tae, or I’m going to avoid your _mated_ pussy next time you’re in heat,” Kibum retorts, mimicking his Taemin’s snarl. Taemin didn’t know the whole story about Jonghyun: the nearly nine years of pining; the fact that Taemin had been the first person other than Jonghyun that Kibum had fucked in years; nor that Kibum had once accidentally walked in on Jonghyun and Minho having sex and, once alone, proceeded to cry so hard he passed out.  
  
Taemin didn’t know those things, but he knew enough about Kibum and Jonghyun’s relationship to be pissed about it. And he did not even try to hide these feelings from Kibum.  
  
“ _Whatever_ ,” Taemin huffs into the receiver. “ _Either way, I’m sorry but you’re going to have to go through this alone. If I come back and you’re still in heat, I’ll help out.”_  
  
“It’ll probably be done by the time you’re back.” Kibum fingers the band of his boxers. “But I’ve gone through a bunch of heats alone, so this isn’t anything new for me. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“ _Make sure to stay hydrated, and take breaks every once in a while…”_ he pauses for a moment for continuing, voice rushed. “ _They just called my boarding group. I’ll talk to you later, Kibu._ ”  
  
Kibum opens his mouth to says goodbye but Taemin has already hung up. Typical. Shaking his head, Kibum places his phone on his nightstand and lets out a weighty exhale. His hand pushes its way into his boxers and curls around his half-hard cock without another second wasted. Kibum moans from the friction alone, however dry.  
  
He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand, producing a plastic bottle of lube. It takes a lot of determination to separate his hand from his cock. After dumping more lube than necessary onto his fingers, he reaches down with opposite hand and lifts his hips to pull off his boxers before again gripping his dick and pumping slowly.  
  
Closing his eyes, he presses his head back into the pillows and lets out a groan. His heat is on him almost fully now, squeezing the muscles in his abdomen and hazing up his mind until he can process little except the sensation in his cock and the emptiness in his hole.  
  
“Fuck,” Kibum mutters, flexing the muscles around his hole as he opens his eyes again. _Empty, fucking empty._  
  
He reaches over to the nightstand again, sticking his hand into the drawer and waving it about until he manages to wrap his fingers around the dildo inside. Sure, it’s not the one he wants to use right now—that one is blue and thick and, unfortunately, stored in a box under his bed—but it’s there and his ass is slick and needy.  
  
He slicks it up briefly with lube before pressing it inside himself, whimpering as its ribbed surface rubs against his entrance. Deep, deep fucking deeper until it's all the way in. Kibum sighs, reveling in the sensation of being filled. His heat is searing now, and he can feel nothing except the dildo in his ass and his own hand stroking his dick with renewed energy.  
  
Again Kibum tosses his head back. He’s giving into his heat, letting the pleasure and his need for it blossom as he plunges the toy in and out. He closes his eyes and pictures Jonghyun on top of him. Jonghyun’s fingers are guiding the toy, his other hand wrapped around Kibum’s cock.  
  
No, no. Their heats are supposed to be the same.  
  
The dildo is actually double-sided and Jonghyun is speared on the other end, their legs overlapping as he fucks himself onto it, ramming the other end deeper and deeper into Kibum as he does. It’s still Jonghyun’s hand on his dick but Kibum’s hand is on Jonghyun’s cock instead. It’s slightly smaller than Kibum’s and redder in color, with a two-pronged vein on the left side. Kibum feels it—even though he doesn’t.  
  
In the intensity of his heat, he feels it. He feels all of it. He feels Jonghyun’s ass smash into his each time he fucks himself on the dildo. The friction of Jonghyun’s sweat-marked thighs rubbing over his. The feeling of Jonghyun’s lips on his, how his tongue dips into Kibum’s mouth only to pause and shudder at a particularly cruel jab to his prostate. Kibum takes advantage of this and pushes his tongue into Jonghyun’s mouth instead.  
  
They’re making out and it's gross because Jonghyun gets really spitty when he’s been fucked for too long and is overstimulated. Kibum couldn’t care less as he bites into Jonghyun’s lower lip until he whimpers. Kibum wouldn’t care even if Jonghyun were a bad kisser all the time. Kibum wouldn’t care even if Jonghyun’s lips weren’t so goddamn soft, he’d still want to _die_ kissing Jonghyun.  
  
He works his way down from Jonghyun’s lips, swiping his tongue over Jonghyun’s jaw before kissing the mole at his clavicle. There is no mark on Jonghyun’s neck—no bruise from an Alpha. He is untouched by everyone except Kibum, wants nothing on his skin except Kibum’s lips and fingers.  
  
Kibum leans downward and takes one of Jonghyun’s small, dark nipples between his lips. The position is awkward and the dildo slips an inch or so outside of his ass but he couldn’t give less of a shit because Jonghyun presses his chest outward. His hand freezes on Kibum’s cock but Kibum doesn’t care because Jonghyun is moaning as Kibum sucks his nipple. His moans are low but go up a little at the end, like he’s shocked.  
  
He shouldn’t be shocked that Kibum knows where he’s sensitive. Kibum knows Jonghyun likes it when his nipples are sucked and Kibum knows Jonghyun likes being licked and that he loves making-out after sex, with their legs still tangled together and the blanket just barely reaching their waists. He loves kissing Kibum after sex while asking what they should eat because fucking gave him an appetite. He loves it when Kibum suggests that Jonghyun order something for delivery while Kibum treats himself to an appetizer, sliding back under the blanket and between Jonghyun’s legs to eat out his stretched hole.  
  
The fantasies blur into one and Kibum can taste Jonghyun’s wetness in his mouth and down his throat. Jonghyun is still fucking himself on the ribbed, two-sided dildo. He has one hand on Kibum’s shoulder for leverage as he fucks himself back and forth, his other hand now pumping Kibum rapidly. His cheeks are red and his damp hair cast over his eyes. He’s close, Kibum can tell.  
  
“I’m gonna cum,” he mutters. “Fuck, Kibum, I’m gonna fucking cum.”  
  
Kibum lifts his hand from Jonghyun’s dick, rubbing his thumb over Jonghyun’s spit-slick nipple. “Then cum, okay?”  
  
Jonghyun nods frenziedly. “You’re so fucking good, Kibum,” he grunts. He expands the circle of his fist, taking both his cock and Kibum’s into his hand and pumping both quickly.  
  
“Keep doing that and I’ll cum with you, babe,” Kibum says, that final word fire on his lips. Jonghyun, his _babe_. His.  
  
And Jonghyun does cum, Kibum following not soon after.  
  
The pleasure firing off in Kibum’s brain breaks through his fantasy like a cord ripped from its socket. His eyes open sluggishly and it is his own larger, darker cock in his hand and a single-sided dildo in his ass. He is alone.  
  
The clarity of thought brought on post-orgasm lasts only long enough for Kibum to reach under his bed and grab out the dildo he really wanted to use. He pulls out the ribbed one with a groan and slicks up the blue one, imaging how it’ll feel inside of him, how the pleasure will eat him up just as his heat will in a few moments. As his heat goes on, these minutes of post-orgasm clarity will be longer, but, for now, they’re only a brief respite before the heat digs its teeth back into its brain.  
  
As he pushes the dildo inside, his heat having returned, he is again imagining Jonghyun’s fingers easing it into his wet entrance.  
  
**  
  
After his third orgasm, Kibum calls his in sick to his work. He spends the next two days riding his heat out, taking breaks when he can to eat or drink and reassure Taemin via text that he is doing both. Or he catches an hour or so of sleep before waking up to find his cock and ass leaking.  
  
 His sheets are sticky and the air is saturated with the overwhelming odor of his heat, and he only realizes how disgusting this is after he orgasms—he’s lost count of how many times—on Sunday afternoon.  
  
“Gross,” he hisses into the sheets, pulling the dildo out of his ass and tossing it to the floor. Weakness curls around in his veins, settling in his strained muscles. Sighing up at the ceiling, he thinks of going back to sleep for a bit but the bed is so disgusting he thinks better of it.  
  
_I probably have about an hour_ , he thinks to himself as he eases himself onto the floor. An hour of clarity—enough time to change his bed sheets and maybe even shower.  
  
The shower sounds more pleasing than a temporarily-clean bed, so Kibum carefully makes his way into his bathroom, where he steps into the shower immediately after he’s turned it on. He lets out a sigh of relief as the lukewarm water slides down his back. He only feels more at ease as the temperature increases, tension unwinding in his back. He’s tempted to sit on the tiled floor but resists; he’s been on his ass for virtually forty-eight hours straight, after all.  
  
It takes a shameful amount of soap and rather vigorous scrubbing before Kibum finally deems himself clean. Cum, his natural lubricant and the store-bought variety have dried and created a disgusting mess over his lower region. He frownes as he picked at the drying patch with his fingers before moving on to wipe the fresher lubrication from his hole. He’ll be wet again soon enough, but, for now, it was nice to be clean.  
  
After washing his hair twice and giving the rest of his skin yet another lathering of soap, he steps out of the shower, however regretfully. About twenty-five minutes have passed and he still needs to change his sheets and hopefully grab something to eat before his heat presses down on him again. He doesn’t bother drying himself off with a towel, instead pulling on an oversized t-shirt and setting himself to work.  
  
He pulls the sheets and blankets from the bed, wrinkling his nose as the sweet and overpowering stench of his heat smacks in the face in the process. The offensive items are cast away into a closet to be washed later and are soon replaced.  
  
Kibum makes his way into the kitchen, pulling open the large drawer stocked with granola bars, sports drinks, and a single box of chocolate energy bars. Kibum, personally,  finds them disgusting but Taemin can wolf down six at a time.  
  
Kibum chews on a granola bar as he stares into the rest of the drawer; none of the drinks are really striking his fancy, but he should probably having something full of sugar and salt and maybe some caffeine…  
  
_I can head out and get a soda at the vending machine_ , Kibum thinks to himself as he swallows the last bite of the granola bar and reaches for a second.  
  
The idea of a soda—caffeinated, overly sweet—has desire popping on his tastebuds. His mind made up, he pulls on a pair of boxers and grabs his wallet, sliding on a pair of slippers and heading out the door.  
  
The vending machine on his floor is in a little room off to the side about two doors down Kibum’s. He shuffles outside and makes his way to the vending room leisurely. After fishing around in his wallet for a minute or so, Kibum finds enough coins to make his purchase and pushes one inside the machine. Just as the low clatter of the traveling coin sounds, a voice catches Kibum’s attention.  
  
“ _Fuck_.”  
  
The voice is low, gravely. Kibum turns his head toward the doorway from the vending room as his heart leaps into his fucking throat, discomfort and fear sliding through his system like acid. He can feel his pulse in his eyeballs and the weight of his tongue in his mouth and there are fucking footsteps and they’re getting closer.  
  
He doesn’t even know why he’s reacting this way, his mind still unable to process what his body processed already understood—the smell, that _scent_ which permeated through the air like a miasma.  
  
An Alpha.  
  
Alarm tightens his veins to the size of thread just as a man comes into view from the doorway. It’s him. His scent. The Alpha.  
  
The Alpha is around Kibum’s height with muscular shoulders and chest. His thick thighs seem almost bursting through his tight jeans. Somewhat-overgrown brown hair falls halfway over his wide eyes. His cheeks are devoid of color, as though bloodless, and his mouth is hanging half-open.  
  
“Sorry,” says the Alpha. He’s still in the doorway, only staring in at where Kibum is standing. His brows are furrowed, mouth half-open as he struggles to find the words. When he finally continues speaking, his voice is soft, breathy. “It’s just… I’m…”  
  
“You’re an Alpha.”  
  
Kibum’s not sure where the words came from or how his voice sounds so goddamn certain despite the twisting in his insides. _What the fuck are you doing??_  
  
The Alpha seems just as shocked as Kibum. “And you’re…”  
  
“An Omega,” Kibum finishes almost immediately.  
  
“In heat,” the Alpha groans, his voice again reaching that lower register. “You’re in _heat_.”  
  
Kibum’s mouth goes dry as an odd sensation spreads through him. It starts at the crooks of his arms, then spreads into his chest. It is like a bubble had somehow formed inside of him, making him feel somehow empty and full at the same time. There is an Alpha staring at him, an Alpha he has never met before, staring at him while he’s in his heat and already wet.  
  
Kibum’s mouth feels heavy, almost like his jaw has disconnected itself from the rest of his face. “So?”  
  
A dumb fucking question. He knows what this is, what this Alpha wants from him. He knows Alphas, their DNA. Their most basic of instincts, most carnal. Alphas fuck, lead, dominate, decide control breed—  
  
“Can we have sex?”  
  
Kibum stares at the Alpha. Desperation has twisted his face, pushed his brows together and tightened his jaw. Kibum has never seen an Alpha like this before. He’s never seen anyone look at him this way before—like they need him, like they might break without him.  
  
“Yes,” Kibum exhales. _Wait, what? What the fuck?_  
  
The Alpha lets out a relieved sigh of his own. “T—”  
  
“My apartment is right over here,” Kibum continues, cutting off the Alpha. His mind is swirling, thoughts tripping over each other and smoothing out into one vicious voice— _what the fuck are you doing?!_  
  
Kibum is leading an Alpha into his apartment, that’s what he’s fucking doing. Kibum, in heat, alone, is walking past an Alpha, who follows him like a stray dog follows the passerby who tosses a scrap of food in their direction. Kibum, the tattoo of his heart echoing in his throat and his fingertips and his cock, is opening the door to his apartment and sliding off his shoes and placing his wallet on the nearby table. Kibum watches as the Alpha shuts the door quietly behind him, as though he shouldn’t be in here, as though what they’re doing is wrong and no one should know.  
  
Kibum’s thoughts smash against his skull. Fuck, fuck this is wrong. What is he doing?? Letting an Alpha he doesn’t even know into his home and—  
  
“Where’s your bedroom?” the Alpha asks. His voice is collected but not entirely so, instead lined by the need that had painted his face only a few moments earlier. “Or do you want to do it in here…?”  
  
Kibum shakes his head. “It’s this way.”  
  
And now he is leading this Alpha into his bedroom. Again, the Alpha shuts the door softly behind him.  
  
Kibum sits at the edge of his bed and the Alpha takes off his shirt, revealing deeply-cut abs and a well-built chest. Kibum’s mouth goes dry. His hands quiver as he fingers the hem of his own t-shirt and pulls it over his head.  
  
The Alpha closes in on him, pressing his hands on the bed and leaning toward Kibum. His warm breath ghosts over Kibum’s ear, sending shockwaves down his spine. “Do you have condoms?”  
  
Kibum feels a moan curl in the base of his throat but holds back. _Why would he moan already?_ The Alpha hasn’t even touched him yet, only breathed in his ear. “In the drawer of my nightstand.”  
  
The Alpha pulls back, his scent waning with the action. Kibum inhales hungrily—fuck. He hadn’t even realized it but the Alpha’s smell was so goddamn good. Heady and desperate but, at the same time, _fucking_ good.  
  
“Is this all you have?” The Alpha’s voice pulls Kibum back into reality. He glances over his shoulder to see the Alpha standing in front of his nightstand, holding up a strip of condoms.  
  
“Yeah.” The Alpha frowns and Kibum, confused, asks, “Why? What’s wrong with those?”  
  
“They’re not Alpha condoms,” he explains bluntly, tearing one off.  
  
“O-oh.” He had forgotten all about that ‘Alpha condoms’ bullshit. No way in hell they needed special condoms—he knew it was all just to stroke their egos.  
  
Something seems to click in the Alpha’s mind as he is tossing the remaining condoms back into the drawer. He looks over at Kibum with round eyes, jaw loose with surprise. “Have you… never been with an Alpha before?”  
  
Kibum’s mouth goes dry, then he nods.  
  
The Alpha’s arms drop to hang lifelessly at his sides. “Fuck.”  
  
“But I still want to do this.” The words spill from Kibum’s lips before he can even process them, and even as they’re being said—or even after, as they hang in the air as a thick, bittersweet invitation.  
  
He doesn’t know why he wants this. Or why he nods when the Alpha asks him if he’s sure. He pushes himself further up on the bed and pulls off his boxers, spreading his legs for the Alpha to nestle between him after he’s undressed completely. Kibum’s heart is beating so forcefully against his ribcage he feels his bones might fucking crack. His head hurts, his thoughts are all fighting each other as he watches the Alpha, sliding the condom inch by fucking inch over his cock, stare down at him.  
  
“Are you ready?”  
  
Again, it’s the Alpha’s voice that brings him back to this moment. A stranger on top of him. A stranger’s heavy, bitter scent hanging in the air, mixing with the own sickly-sweet aroma of Kibum’s own heat.  
  
Now, beneath a man he doesn’t know, his skin twitching with desire, the need and desperation of his head steadily returning to his mind, Kibum realizes why he wants this.  
  
He doesn't want to be alone. He's fucking sick of these fantasies. Fantasies he should be ashamed of. A married Omega, really? _Really, Kibum?_  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
The stranger blinks. He probably forgot that they hadn’t exchanged names somewhere between their strange meeting and where they are now. “Jinki.”  
  
“I’m Kibum,” Kibum mutters in a single rushed breath. “Now stick your cock in me. Fuck me.”  
  
Jinki does not hesitate. There’s virtually no stretch, but Jinki pushing into him sends a strange sensation over Kibum's spine. He curls his legs around Jinki and pulls him closer. With Jinki’s first thrust, he lets out a gasp and digs his nails into Jinki’s side. “ _Fuck_ … Fucking kiss me.”  
  
There is no hesitation in Jinki’s lips as he cranes his neck downward and smashes their lips together. Kibum sucks on his tongue, the lewd sound joining the wet squishes of Jinki’s hips into him. He’s fucking big and holds nothing back with his hips. Kibum’s skin feels as though it has been lit aflame and his groin is the heart of that fire. Pleasure burns through him, ebbing and flowing with every push and pull of Jinki’s cock in and out.  
  
Kibum releases Jinki’s tongue and the two kiss sloppily, nipping at each other’s lips before Kibum gasps and throws his head back. Jinki has just nailed his fucking prostate, sending a rush of white, static pleasure to rush through his nervous system. Kibum closes his eyes and lets the sensation wash over him.  
  
“Holy—ugh, Jinki. Talk to me.”  
  
Jinki’s hips stutter along with his voice. “D-do you mean dirt—”  
  
“Your cock is so much better than a toy. Your huge cock feels so good in my ho—ho-holy _shit_.” The curse falls unwillingly from his lips as something larger pushes inside of him, spreading his ass harshly and unexpectedly and sending sparks of shock and pleasure to ignite in his veins.  
  
Jinki freezes, his cock halfway outside of Kibum. “What? Are you okay?”  
  
Kibum huffs, electricity still charging through his veins at that sudden stretch. That brief fullness, which pressed in and pulled itself out again so goddamn quickly. “W-was that your knot?”  
  
“Y-yeah…?” Jinki heaves. It takes him a few seconds to recognize this opportunity. A small smile toys with his lips. If Kibum had not been so thrown by the feeling of a growing knot stretching him for the first time, he would have noticed the nervousness in Jinki’s eyes, too. “D-did you like that?”  
  
“Yes. Goddamnit keep fucking me.”  
  
“Do you want my knot, Kibum?”  
  
“Yes! Fuck! Yes, I want your goddamn knot, please…”  
  
Kibum’s voice fades off into a low groan. Jinki has finally thrust into him again and his knot is even bigger than it was before. The stretch is fresh and welcome, a new sort of pleasure buzzing throughout his system with each thrust of Jinki’s hips.  
  
Kibum hisses as Jinki’s hand curls around his dick, pumping him with a sweat-slicked palm.  
  
Jinki’s engorged knot continues to swell. There’s no getting used to it, even once it's reached its largest size. Every push and pull of Jinki’s hips tears a gasp from Kibum’s lips.  
  
Jinki slows his pace and bends at his elbow, lowering himself so he can run his tongue over Kibum’s ear. Kibum raises his hands to grab the muscular flesh of Jinki’s forearms.  
  
It’s overwhelming. Jinki’s heat, his scent and his fucking knot spreading him each and every time he fucked into Kibum.  
  
“I’m going to cum,” Kibum mutters, tightening his grip around Jinki’s arm. “I’m going to cum.”  
  
Jinki bites down on his ear and the brief spark of pain brings with it Kibum’s orgasm. He closes his eyes, losing himself in the heat of his orgasm. Jinki fucks him slowly through it, milking the last of the cum from his dick. When Kibum is finished, Jinki picks up the pace and the vigor. “H-holy fuck.”  
  
Jinki pulls away from Kibum’s ear and smirks down at him. “I’m much better than a toy, right?”  
  
Kibum nods, still dazed from his orgasm. He doesn’t even realize Jinki is just copying what he himself had said earlier. “You’re so fucking good, Jinki… I haven’t been fucked this good in so long.”  
  
Jinki huffs. “No, you’ve _never_ been fucked this good.”  His hips stutter and he hisses, pulling out from Kibum and pulling himself backwards, freeing himself easily from Kibum’s grip, which had loosened once he came. Kibum hears the snap of a condom being removed and raises his head to see Jinki jacking his now-bare cock over Kibum’s abdomen.  
  
Kibum is about to ask him why he pulled out when Jinki hisses again. Kibum recoils as the first spurt of cum hits him in the chin. But it doesn’t stop. It hits his chin again a few more times, as well as his neck, shoulder, and chest. Jinki is staring down at his cock, pumping slowly as cum shoots from it before it settles into a thick, persistent stream, the cum itself pooling on Kibum’s abdomen.  
  
“Holy shit,” Kibum mutters.  
  
Jinki looks at up at him and smiles crookedly. “It’ll… it’ll keep going for a while,” he says softly, as though embarrassed. “About twenty minutes…”  
  
“I see why Alpha condoms are a thing now,” Kibum replies. “That’s a lot of cum.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jinki chuckles Jinki.  
  
Kibum points down at Jinki’s cock. “Can I put it in my mouth?”  
  
Jinki does not hesitate. “Sure.”  
  
After Kibum pulls himself out from beneath Jinki and settles onto his knees, he presses a soft kiss to Jinki’s hipbone and whispers under his breath, “Jinki.”  
  
_Jinki_.


	3. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW LONG WAIT. but not as long as the gap between ch 1 and 2....? lol. anyway. here we are. new platform!! going to slowly start crossposting fics here. i think i might mess around with the lj page at some point so the fics themselves aren't there anymore and they'll just link to here, as idk how i feel about having all my fics have 2 copies? any opinions from you guys?????? (don't be afraid to give me some i would like advice/opinions lmfao)
> 
> anyway. let's get this show on the road hahaha

“Can you pass me the shampoo? It’s the pink bottle.

Jinki, nodding, reaches behind himself to grab the bottle and pass it to Kibum, who mutters a soft thank you.

It’s late Monday evening and Kibum’s heat faded less than an hour ago. He isn’t entirely certain how he ended up showering with Jinki. Not that it’s strange—Jinki had spent the last nearly twenty-four hours buried in Kibum’s ass with little break, after all. But it is certainly awkward. Jinki is awkward. He had been awkward before the sex, during it, and even now is keeping his elbows tucked tightly against his side to keep from disturbing Kibum.

“You can relax a little,” Kibum says. “It’s okay if you bump into me or something.”

Jinki blinks at him and hesitates for a bit before lowering his hands. He probably had not realized how tense he was until Kibum had pointed it out. “S-sorry.”

Kibum pops open the bottle of shampoo and squeezes some out onto his hand. As he massages the soap into his scalp, his eyes meet Jinki’s. Jinki looks away first, his gaze dropping to the tile floor. Kibum holds back a sigh. 

Yesterday had been not only his first time with an Alpha, but his first time having sex with a stranger, yet he has enough common sense to realize the oddities of Jinki’s behavior. Whether it is due to Jinki’s natural personality or something deeper, however, Kibum is unsure.

“I’m sorry about the whole condom thing,” Kibum says a few minutes later as he squeezes body soap onto his hand and passes the bottle over to Jinki.

Jinki’s stares at him blankly for a moment until realization sparks in his eyes. “O-oh. No, it’s okay, really… it was kind of sudden, after all. Having sex.” Taking the bottle from Kibum, he squeezes some soap onto his palm and hands the bottle back. “I liked your idea of pulling it almost the whole way off and just cumming into the condom. It would’ve been a lot messier otherwise.”

Kibum chuckles weakly. “Yeah. I knew Alphas came a lot but I had no idea it would be that much.”

“Yeah it’s…it’s a lot.”

They finish their shower with a somewhat more relaxed atmosphere. They wrap towels over their waists before heading into the bedroom to get dressed. Kibum wrinkles his nose at the scent of his heat, which weighs down thickly on the air of his bedroom. He and Jinki had taken a number of snack breaks in the lulls between Kibum’s bursts of sexual need, oftentimes while Jinki was still oozing lazily into a condom, and their discarded wrappers and bottles had only collected into discouraging piles on the floor. Kibum bites down on his lip, thinking about how long it’ll take to manage this fucking mess. 

As he fishes out some new clothes for himself from his closet, he realizes that Jinki has nothing else to wear aside from what he had on yesterday. But Kibum doesn’t offer him anything else and Jinki seems rather unperturbed as he gathers his clothes from the floor.

Kibum dresses himself, his skin twitching with discomfort. He exhales noisily and turns to the mirror to fix hair. His mind whirrs as he watches Jinki zip up his jeans through his reflection in the mirror. “Do you want something to eat?” he asks after some time, turning on his heel to face the real Jinki. “I could order pizza. My treat.”

Kibum isn’t surprised when Jinki blinks at him dumbly for a few seconds before he manages a reply. “Ah. Thanks but I really have to get going.”

Kibum is, however, surprised at his own reaction—the displeasure which sizzles in his veins and the thinly-veiled vexation in his own voice. “Do you already have dinner plans?”

“N-no, nothing like that,” Jinki stammers, his fingers toying nervously with his belt loops. “It’s just that, you know, it’s almost seven and I don’t actually live close to here and I’ve got work tomorrow and it’s just… You know, I can’t.”

Kibum doesn’t know. He shrugs, mind wrestling to comprehend why the fuck he feels so hurt by a stranger turning down his offer to eat together. “That’s fine. You’re leaving now, then?”

“Yeah. I really gotta get going…”

Kibum walks him to the door, leaning on his kitchen counter to watch as Jinki pulls on his shoes. This was such a mistake. 

“K-Kibum?”

Kibum snaps back into reality, eyes refocusing on where Jinki is standing at the threshold of the door.

“Yeah?” 

Clearing his throat, Jinki reaches into his jeans pocket and produces his wallet, pulling from it a thin green card. Kibum’s hearts speeds in his chest as he pushes himself off the counter and toward Jinki. The card quivers in Jinki’s grip. Biting down on his lip, Kibum takes it from the Alpha. 

“I was thinking, um,” Jinki continues unsurely, “that you might want to have this. So you can contact me, you know. In case.”

“In case…?" 

Jinki visibly pales. “In case you want to do this again. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

The two stand there silently for a few seconds, the card surprisingly heavy against Kibum’s fingers. His mouth has gone dry, his mind emptied by the simple action.

“Well,” Jinki says loudly, breaking the silence. “I’ll be on my way then… see you later, Kibum?”

Kibum licks his lips. “See you.”

Jinki gives a forced half-smile and is out the door in the next few seconds, leaving Kibum, unexpectedly speechless, standing in his kitchen and holding a business card with a number he’s not sure he’s ever going to call.

**

Kibum distracts himself by cleaning up his apartment. It’s something he’d have to do even if he weren’t trying to distract himself, but he does manage to finish in half the time it usually takes him. Every time he slows his hands, he finds himself reliving his hours with Jinki and recalling the green card lying on his kitchen counter.

He pulls open the windows of his bedroom, throws the bedsheets he had changed the day before into one of the washing machines on his floor, strips the bed and sets to washing those as well, collects wrappers and empty bottles from the bedroom and tosses them into the trash, moves both sets of bed clothes into the dryers, vacuums the entire apartment for fuck’s sake, cleans both sinks for fuck’s sake, makes his bed, folds the other sheets into the closet, dusts the fucking fridge—

“Okay, I need to stop,” he mumbles to himself, pulling out the duster from between his bottles of juice and various ingredients lining the door of his refrigerator. He slams the door shut and spins on his heel, leaning wearily against the door. His eyes briefly catch on the green card on his counter and the urge to dust his cheese drawer rises with him, but he throws the duster to the floor. Rushing toward his TV, he collapses on the couch, purchases _Love Actually_ from PayPerView without a thought and calls the nearby pizza place.

He orders an obscene amount of pizza.

Kibum spends the next thirty minutes watching the movie more attentively than he ever has before. He’s seen it enough times to know virtually ever scene as it begins, so he entertains himself by counting books in the background of certain scenes, the wrinkles on the faces of various characters, eyebrow hairs when the shot is close enough—

His doorbell rings and Kibum yelps in surprise. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” a familiar voice whines from the hallway. “Let me in! I’ve got beer.”

Kibum sighs, rising to his feet. Of course Taemin would come over unannounced. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming over?” he asks, swinging the front door open. Taemin, dressed casually in sweat pants and an oversized t-shirt, enters immediately and shoves Kibum against the wall to make room.

Kibum winces as he lifts himself from the wall. “Couldn’t have called before letting yourself in?

“My phone died on the plane,” Taemin replies, ignoring Kibum’s slap to his shoulder. The bottles of beer he’s carrying clink as he steps out of his shoes and into the apartment. “You’ve got pizza?”

“Yeah,” says Kibum, shutting the front door and making his way back over to his couch and the three open boxes of pizza on the coffee table.

Taemin stands over the table and frowns. “Is there someone else here?" 

“Nope.”

His brow furrows together. “Then why’d you order so much?”

“Long story,” Kibum sighs. He holds his hand out to Taemin. “Beer.”

Taemin places the bottles on the table, leaving Kibum to grab his own beer while Taemin helps himself to a slice of each of the three pizzas. He stacks them together to form a grotesque, carb-heavy sin of a sandwich and falls backward onto the couch. Kibum opens a bottle for himself and takes a sip. It’s cheap bear, and it’s gross, but he needs the alcohol.

Audibly swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, Taemin asks, “Haven’t you seen this movie a hundred times?”

“It’s a good movie,” Kibum quips defensively. “Also, no one is forcing you to watch it. You can leave. And pay me for the pizza. 

“Pay me for the beer." 

Kibum grumbles in reply. They drink from their bottles in unison. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised anyway. That you’re watching this again,” Taemin continues after a while. “You’re a fucking romantic. Plus, you always do the same things over and over again. Or should I say, do the same people. The same _married_ —”

“So how’d your trip go?” Kibum asks, hoping to steer Taemin away from insulting Jonghyun or their relationship. Bringing up Jonghyun is Taemin’s default reaction when he’s tired, upset, hungry, frustrated or simply in the mood to piss off Kibum. “How’s your family?”

“All good,” he replies hastily, his eyes jolting away from Kibum’s to look at the TV. Kibum knows it wasn’t good. “How was your heat?”

Kibum bites down on his lip.“It was… interesting. I actually—”

“Interesting?” interrupts Taemin. He pushes the final bites of his pizza-sandwich past his lips and turns back to Kibum.“I’d much prefer an average weekend of two Omegas fucking the shit out of each other than something _interesting._ When are you going to move your heat to match mine?”

Kibum bites down on his lip, pushing Jinki’s name from his tongue and to the back of his mind. Maybe it’s not even worth mentioning. “Last I checked, you’re the one whose heat won’t move to match mine.”

Taemin narrows his eyes. “Why don’t you just a. not have your heat out of schedule; and b. move yours?”

“A., I cannot control my hormones. If my heat is five days early, it’s five days early. There’s nothing I can do about that.” Kibum pauses and takes a drink. “And b., you’re a mated Omega, dumbass. Your heat is fucked up because of an Alpha, and your hormones have been altered as a result of his DNA so—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Lessen up on the science lesson,” Taemin grunts.

Kibum taps his nails noisily against his bottle. “When are you going to be back to normal?”

“I wish I knew, but, according to the Internet, there’s really no way to tell. The effectiveness of the bite differs from Alpha to Alpha, and it also depends on how much saliva he manages to get in your bloodstream during the bite,” Taemin explains, raising a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, face angled downward. “It fucking sucks.”

“How long ago were you…?” KIbum’s voice trails off as he rubs the base of his neck. Taemin raises his head and his eyes settle on Kibum’s hand.

  
Unconsciously, Taemin begins to reach for the base of his own neck; he catches himself after his hand travels a few inches. It falls to his lap. “It was only a few days before I moved here, so… five months? “

“Oh,” Kibum breathes. “I remember how dark it was the first time you and I had sex, but I didn’t realize it was that recent.”

“Well, the only bite marks you’ve seen in person are Jonghyun’s, right? Minho tries to keep the bite as visible as possible, since he—” Taemin cuts himself off, gagging. “ _Christ_ , why the fuck am I the one bringing up Jonghyun’s bite?” He points his second pizza sandwich accusingly at Kibum. “You’re obsession is fucking contagious. Keep it to yourself, please. I do not want to start having wet dreams about some Omega I’ve never even met.”

“You say that like dreaming about another Omega is gross.”

“No no no,” Taemin replies immediately, wagging his finger. “Not what I said at all. Having wet dreams about the Omega _you’re_ in love with would be gross and would make me a very shitty fuck-buddy. There are rules to fuck-buddydom, Kibum. You may not know them, but they are there. And I already think way too much about Jonghyun’s hairless puss because of you, thank you very much."

“Christ,” Kibum hisses through his teeth. He reaches forward and grabs another slice of pizza, taking an angry bite before replying stupidly, “He’s not hairless.” 

Taemin gasps in mock surprise. “You fucking serious? From the way you talk about him I assumed he was the smoothest thing on two legs. That’s the only way I’ve been able to reconcile your obsession. Tell me he at least bleaches his asshole? No, no, wait. Does he only eat pineapple? So his slick tastes like candy?” 

“You’re disgusting,” Kibum retorts. He throws his slice onto the table, anger bubbling beneath his skin. “Don’t talk about my friend that way. And don’t think about him naked.”

“I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Then don’t do it on accident,” snaps Kibum, grip tightening around his beer bottle. He stares at Taemin, half-illuminated by the light from the TV. His black hair is disheveled, as though he hadn’t even bothered to run his fingers through it a few times since napping on the plane. The dark circles beneath his eyes are even more pronounced than before. It doesn’t come as a shock to Kibum that Taemin would be sleep deprived after spending the weekend with his family.

He’s a mated Omega without the mate; he probably got more shit handed to him that weekend than Kibum could manage in a month.

“Well, since we’re on the topic,” begins Taemin, raising his half-full bottle to his lips and angling it straight up. Some beer slides out past his lips as he chugs it down. Once emptied, he drops it to the floor and twists on the couch to face Kibum, then leans backwards and slings one leg over the back of the couch and plants the other on the floor. 

Kibum is not in the mood for whatever the fuck Taemin is thinking. “What are you doing?” 

“Inviting you in between my legs?”

“Why the fuck are you doing that?”

Taemin’s thumbs pause around the band of his sweatpants. “Because I haven’t had sex in a while and I’m horny after talking about oral so I want you to eat me out.”

Kibum’s brows furrow. “I just got off my heat, you jackass.”

“Yeah, but now’s your chance to have sex with another person rather than just ram a dildo up your own ass,” Taemin snarls.

Kibum takes a swig of his beer, wiping his lip with the back of his hand as he lowly replies, “I wasn’t by myself.”

Taemin’s pupils flicker with astonishment, then harden. His jaw tightens as he drops his right leg from the back of his couch. He readjusts until both feet are planted on the floor. One of his legs pulses, restless. When he speaks, still facing the television, his voice is low. “What do you mean?”

Kibum’s mouth goes dry, discomfort taking root in his lungs and spreading through his veins with each passing millisecond. His intestines are twisting themselves into knots. “On Sunday, I met this Alpha— 

Taemin whips his head to face Kibum. “An Alpha?” he yells. His sudden loudness sends a strike of fear through Kibum’s system. “You fucked an _Alpha_?”

“Why the fuck are you shouting at me?” Kibum snaps, his skin heating with rage. Taemin’s eyes are boring into his own, his glare vicious. His hands are both curled into fists.

“Why did you let an Alpha help you through your heat?” Taemin’s jaw is lax, brows crowded over his eye. His voice drips with confusion and disapproval. As though Kibum had done something wrong.“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Why shouldn’t I? Huh?” Kibum asks sharply, his rage solidifying and multiplying. He scoots forward on the couch, crowding Taemin against the armrest. Taemin is smaller, weaker, and he doesn’t fight as Kibum crawls over him, something cruel sliding around in his intestines. He stares down at Taemin, toxic words slipping past his lips without restraint. “Because you couldn’t hold onto an Alpha of your own, is that it? He got one fucking taste of you and decided that was enough, and now no one can have an Alpha?”

Taemin pushes against Kibum’s shoulder but the other Omega doesn’t budge. “Get the fuck off of me!” He tries to shove Kibum again, straining. They’re so close Kibum can smell the alcohol on his breath. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I know enough.” Kibum’s anger is swelling, like a violent storm growing in his chest. Taemin has given him so much shit over the few months they’ve properly known each other, and now Kibum’s fury is an uncontrollable, vicious heat. “You’re an Omega. You show up here just a few days after you’ve last been bitten. You have no one aside from me. I can connect the dots.”

They’re both still for a while. Taemin huffs beneath Kibum, clenching his eyes shut and groaning as he struggles to slide out from beneath him. Kibum’s heart is pounding against his ribcage and the blood in his veins seemingly scorches his skin.

Taemin’s a fucking dick.

They only see each other out of necessity. That’s their relationship. Even Taemin’s fuck-buddy comment from earlier had been a gross exaggeration. They fuck because they have nobody else; they eat and drink together because they have nobody else; they call each other when they’re sobbing in a hotel bathroom because they have nobody else.

Taemin is gross. On weekends he sleeps at six AM and wakes up at four PM. He regularly scratches his own ass even when Kibum is around. At work he pretends to smoke so he can get a few minutes off every once in a while. He is a fucking mess and his apartment is littered with dirty laundry and trash. He insults Jonghyun like it’s his only lifeline. Before he and Kibum ever sleep together, he drinks. Like he can’t stand the thought of touching Kibum without the buzz of alcohol.

Kibum hates him.

Taemin shoves him once last time and Kibum withdraws, pushing himself back to the opposite end of the couch. Taemin glares. The two stare at each other for a while, chests heaving. Eventually, Taemin says lowly, “I wish I were an Alpha.”

Kibum snorts. “What? So you could turn into a wolf and fight me?”

Taemin nods slowly. “I fucking hate you.”

Kibum crosses his arms and falls back into the couch cushions. “I hate you, too. Now get the hell out of my apartment.”

When Taemin leaves, he takes all the unopened bottles of beer with him.

**

Kibum yawns, hand lightly bouncing against his stomach. He scrolls past a recipe for spied fried pork—he’s out of pork—and wonders if he should just eat some _haet-bap_ with a fried egg and some kimchi. It’s Friday, the end of the work week and he’s fucking tired, fighting off sleep as he lies stretched-out on his back on his couch. If it were socially acceptable for him to go to bed before eight PM, he would have.

He and Taemin haven’t spoken since Monday night. Fortunately, they work on different floors and in different departments, so they have only run into each other once. It had been in the elevator as Kibum was returning from his lunch break. Kibum had bitten his tongue, holding back the normal criticisms he would have made about Taemin’s sloppy-tucked dress shirt and frazzled hair. Without the guise of friendship, there is no guarantee that Taemin wouldn’t try to fight him.

Even without lupine teeth or claws, Kibum knows they could both cause serious damage to each other in a fight.

Letting out a second yawn, he rests his phone on his chest and turns to the TV. It’s playing some American comedy he’s never found funny. He wonders if he should forget about dinner and go to bed. No one would have to know about him sleeping at seven fifty-three.

It is at this exact moment that his phone trills. A new message. Kibum cranes his neck forward and lifts his phone.

His heart detaches from its cavity and falls against his ribcage.

_From: Jonghyun_

_Hi bum <3 we should really catch up! we didn’t get much chance to talk in the hotel. what do you think about coffee? sunday at 11? at our usual place?_

Kibum knows he fucking shouldn’t. He should avoid Jonghyun, forget about him.

Forget about his crooked smile and his irregular teeth and the mole at the center of his chest and his legs which curve like an archer’s bow. About his soft hair and his long eyelashes and how pink his lips are and how soft his hands and how—

_To: Jonghyun_

_Sure. I’ll see you there :D_

He drops his phone, slamming his palm against his forehead disdainfully. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he moans, kicking his legs up into the air.

He twists off the couch, barely landing on his feet. His eyes focus on his refrigerator. Food will distract him. Eat dinner and then go to bed. Ignore your phone.

Still, he holds tight to the device as he makes his way into his kitchen. Something bright catches his attention and his eyes drop from his fridge to the small, green card lying face-up on his counter.

_Lee Jinki_

_Advertising Director_

_525 Industries_

_010-2916-0554_

 

Kibum stills. He picks up the card, eyes flitting to the number at the bottom.

Kibum’s heart pulses in his fingertips as he unlocks his phone, ignoring Jonghyun’s reply. His hands are shaking so severely it takes him a while to properly type in the number. Once he has it, he presses the phone to his ear and holds his breath.

Jinki answers at the second ring. “ _Hello, this is Le—_ ”

“Jinki?” interrupts Kibum. “This is Kibum. We met over the weekend. You left me your card.”

“ _O-oh_ ,” Jinki exhales. Jinki settles back into his chair, which groans audibly. “ _I, um, I wasn’t expecting you to call…_ ” His voice is tentative, unsure.

“I just wanted to invite you over,” Kibum says simply.

There is a silence. Kibum’s heart thuds loudly in his chest, uncertainty tightening over histhroat as Jinki hesitates. Eventually, Kibum cannot stand it any longer and he speaks up, “For sex. What we did before. Except I’m not in heat.”

They talk for a while. Jinki hangs up first. Kibum stands there, holding the phone up to his ear long after Jinki's line has gone silent.


	4. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's uh... been a while.
> 
> i'll talk more about myself/why it's been so long at the end. i encourage u guys read it, pls ;;;; anyway, hope you enjoy.

“Ah… Kibum,” Jinki gasps, his fingers pressing deeply into Kibum’s waist.

“You’re not even in me all the way yet,” Kibum grunts. One hand flat against Jinki’s chest, with the other he keeps his grip firm around Jinki’s cock and slides down until he is fully seated.

“Fuck… fuck.” Jinki loosens his grip on Kibum’s waist and trails his palms hotly up Kibum’s form. He pauses at Kibum’s chest to flick his thumbs over the Omega’s nipples.

“I’m gonna start moving now,” says Kibum. Jinki nods in response. His eyes are narrow and glassy, drowning in overstimulation. He pinches at Kibum’s nipple a little too hard as Kibum pushes himself up then crashes down onto Jinki’s dick.

It’s been almost two months since Kibum and Jinki have started fucking and Jinki’s star-struck demeanor has yet to fade. Kibum is beginning to doubt it ever will. Jinki acts as virgin even though Kibum has spread his legs and opened his mouth for Jinki over three dozen times.

“You feel good, Jinki, baby.”

Jinki shines under the praise. One hand drops to tug at Kibum’s cock.

“Good, that feels so good,” Kibum whispers. He leans forward, situating his hands flat on the mattress around Jinki. “Your cock feels so fucking good in me.”

He slides his hands forward, lowering himself so his lips can meet Jinki’s. He pushes his tongue past Jinki’s lips and the Alpha groans at the intrusion, hands stuttering against Kibum’s skin.

Only a moment later it is Kibum choking back on his own surprise as Jinki strikes him directly in the prostate. His knot is swelling, sending sparks of pleasure up Kibum’s spine with each time it spreads his hole. He pushes his hips down, orgasm building in his cock and sensations blurring together with every stroke.

“Fuck…,” Kibum exhales, orgasm crashing over him with a spray of white cum. Jinki does not yield his pace and pleasure continues to erupt in Kibum's system. His extremities numb and mouth loose, every inch of his body dissolves. Jinki’s knot is reaching its largest size--Kibum’s been fucking him long enough to know and can recognize the stretch despite most of his senses having been reduced to goo.

Jinki’s knot slips in him for the final time and he comes with a low groan, filling the condom with a spray of hot cum. 

“Ugh, Kibum,” Jinki whispers, pushing himself up slightly to kiss Kibum’s neck. He shifts his hips slightly, making Kibum bite back a moan as Jinki’s cock brushes against his over-sensitive prostate. “You feel so fucking good.”

Kibum laughs. “Don’t I always?”

He pushes against Jinki’s shoulder so the Alpha is again lying flat, and again shoves his tongue into Jinki’s mouth. Jinki curves an arm over Kibum’s back, scratching lightly at the skin as the two kiss and Jinki continues to empty himself, still locked inside of Kibum.

After some time, Kibum pushes his chest away from Jinki’s. He rolls both of Jinki’s nipples between his fingers and hums softly.

“You’re in a good mood,” Jinki observes.

Kibum grins. “I mean, I did just have sex and you weren’t half-bad. If I weren’t in a good mood right now, you would never be allowed back into my bed.”

“Then I’m glad I wasn’t half-bad,” mumbles Jinki. He traces his hands up Kibum’s thighs to settle at his waist.

“Are you going to stay the night?” The question falls from Kibum’s lips like a stone, and he regrets it immediately. 

Jinki has never stayed the night. Not once in the two months since they started fucking has he even lingered in Kibum’s bed for so much as an hour after after cumming. The only proof of his presence to linger after he has left, often in the dead of night, is the opened box of Alpha condoms which now sits on Kibum’s bedside table.

This, however, is not the first time Kibum has asked this question. Nor the first time he’s regretted it.

Jinki stiffens. His eyes flick from side to side like a beetle zigzagging to avoid a murderous foot or broom. He removes his hands from Kibum’s skin and would have pulled out his cock if his knot weren’t still so engorged.

“Nevermind,” Kibum murmurs, angling his head to stare up at the ceiling. He lets out a sigh, then drops his chin to face Jinki again. “Help me spin around.”

Jinki obeys and raises his hands. Grasping them, Kibum twists himself on Jinki’s lap--both of them letting out a groan of pleasure as Kibum shifts around Jinki’s dick, though Kibum through a tight and unwilling jaw--so his back is toward Jinki. Pressing one hand to the mattress, he coaxes Jinki down to his side and, after some minor readjustment, the two are spooning in uncomfortable silence in a bed sticky with sweat and Kibum’s slick.

Jinki slings an arm over Kibum’s body. He doesn’t protest when Jinki’s fingers catch on his nipple and toy with it leisurely. Nor when Jinki presses his lips to the base of Kibum’s neck, breath hot over his spine. And when Jinki begins to rock his dick as best as he can back and forth within Kibum, he only lets out a satisfied moan and shifts his hand down to his own cock. After about ten minutes of lightly teasing, he’s hard again and takes his dick in a firm grasp.

**

Kibum’s alarm wakes him at 8 am, and Jinki is already long gone. The sheets they had sex on are in the laundry basket, waiting to be washed, so the bed Kibum wakes in doesn’t smell like Jinki. When Kibum goes to the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice and snack on an apple, there is no note on the fridge to have a good day--not even one sporting only a sexual innuendo. Jinki left nothing behind, but the condom box is almost empty now.

Kibum showers again, even though he showered after Jinki left and the sheets were totally clean. He uses an excessive amount of shampoo and body wash and douses himself liberally in cologne once he gets out. For clothes he goes simple: gray canvas shoes and tee, navy jeans and a black leather jacket. He combs his hair back and runs his fingers through it more times than necessary before he’s finally able to drag himself out of his apartment and onto the streets. 

The coffee shop where he and Jonghyun have been meeting for the past two months is a ten minute walk away; he arrives a good fifteen minutes early. It’s early enough on a Sunday morning that Kibum feels confident enough to not grab a table immediately and instead gets in line. Soon he’s at the counter and orders a mocha for himself and starts with Jonghyun’s caramel latte before catching himself.

Jonghyun may be pregnant.

He orders a hot chocolate.

Kibum’s intestines tie themselves into knots as he sits down at a table for two near a window. He pulls out his phone and doesn’t text Jonghyun, even though he is now three minutes late.

Jonghyun walks through the door shortly after Kibum sits down. He is dressed in a pair of black jeans and a unbuttoned red plaid shirt with a black v-neck underneath. He notices Kibum almost immediately after entering and scurries over, head low. “Sorry I’m late.” 

Kibum shrugs it off and pushes Jonghyun’s hot chocolate toward him. “Don’t worry about it. I just sat down.”

Jonghyun runs his hands through his hair, inhaling deeply before reaching for the coffee. Kibum’s heart catches in his throat as Jonghyun’s pillowy lips curve together and drink. When he places the cup down, he gives a small smile. “Hot chocolate?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were…” Kibum can’t say the word. It snags on his lips like a hook.

Jonghyun says it for him. “Pregnant?” He shakes his head. “Not yet. Minho just got back from another trip about a week ago. I took a test this morning.”

Bile rises in Kibum’s throat. “Were you experiencing symptoms?”

“Nah, I was just hopeful. I kind of jumped him right after he came home so I was hoping that maybe we had gotten it that time, but I guess not.”

“I’m still surprised Minho went along with trying now, while he’s still traveling a lot.” 

Jonghyun’s cheeks pinken and his teeth softly graze his bottom lip. “Y-yeah… I guess he wants this just as much as I do.”

Kibum wants it more. If it were him, this whole ‘trying’ shit Jonghyun and Minho have been enduring for the past two months wouldn’t be something Jonghyun would have to suffer through. They would probably have a baby already, considering the primary reason Jonghyun had waited this long is because of Minho’s work. Kibum, on the other hand, doesn’t have to travel.

“Anyway,” Jonghyun says, straightening in his seat. Kibum regrets getting him the hot chocolate. The stress on Jonghyun’s face is evident: dark circles wear down his eyes and his lips are chapped and peeling. Caffeine would have probably done him good. “What have you been up to?”

“Me? N-nothing, really.”

“You still going through your heats with Taemin?”

The name sends a sour taste down Kibum’s throat. His interactions with Taemin are limited to awkward elevator encounters (which, although no longer so laced with violent emotions or intent, are still uncomfortable) and the two times their departments have had a joint meeting. “Not anymore.”

Regret clasps down his throat. He had maintained the lie about Taemin for the past two months, even lied about their heats the first time he had mentioned the other Omega to Jonghyun--why is he being honest now?

Jonghyun raises his eyebrows. He leans over the table, excitement lining his voice. “A-are you seeing someone else? Are you dating?”

“Yeah. An Alpha.”

Jonghyun almost knocks over his drink. His hands cup his face and his mouth widens in shock. “W-what?” he asks, a little too loudly. Kibum can smell the chocolate in his breath. “An Alpha?” Kibum nods, his intestines knotting together. “H-how?”

“I was in heat alone and he just… yeah.” Kibum scratches the back of his neck nervously, the mistake of mentioning Jinki burning in his brain. Why spill now? Especially when Jinki had refused him (again) only a few hours before. They weren’t dating, just fucking. 

“Oh my god, you’re blushing.” Jonghyun traces a finger over Kibum’s cheeks, burning with shame. Jonghyun smiles widely, his own cheeks darkening as though blushes have suddenly become contagious. “You’re blushing, Kim Kibum.”

Kibum knocks Jonghyun’s hand away. “Come on, it’s nothing like that.”

Jonghyun shakes his head vigorously. “What are you saying? It’s… so cute that he came to your rescue.” He rubs a finger aimlessly over the table, drawing large and meaningless circles over the wood. “And you haven’t been in a real relationship since--what, college? So I’m--just--really happy for you, Bum.”

Kibum wonders what Jinki would think if he knew this. That Kibum had introduced him as a boyfriend. He’d probably blink a few times, nervously adjust the buttons on his shirt or pull up his sleeves well past the elbow. Maybe he’d break out into a sweat too, rub his hands uncomfortably together.

He’d then tell Kibum he wouldn’t be spending the night.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?”

Kibum takes a sip of his coffee. “About two months.”

Jonghyun frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I’m hurt! I tell you everything, Bum. You know every detail of my married sex life. I expect the same from you…”

The details Kibum replays on his eyelids before he sleeps. Jonghyun really enjoyed it that one night when Minho was so horny he just pushed Jonghyun’s chest down on the kitchen table and fucked him while they were both almost still fully-clothed. Minho had let out the cutest moan two weeks before when Jonghyun twisted on his dick just right. It was amazing, Jonghyun had giggled, that even after so many years their sex life was still so exhilarating and fresh.

Kibum is still lost in these thoughts, in the discomfort that is now lodged firmly in his stomach, when Jonghyun gasps loudly. “Y-you! You’ve never slept with an Alpha before him, right?” Kibum nods and Jonghyun continues with vigor. “It’s so different, right?”

“Yeah,” Kibum agrees, barely able to finish the word before Jonghyun continues in an excited whisper.

“There’s so much cum, right?”

Kibum nods. “Yeah.”

Jonghyun props up his chin with their hand and whispers through their fingers. “I was so… fucking shocked. Like, I mean, Minho had cum inside me before but always in a condom, and it wasn’t like I was looking inside to see how much was in there, you know? But I asked him to cum in my mouth and...” His voice trails off and he bites down harshly on his lower lip. “I literally threw up.”

“What? W-why haven’t I heard this before?”

“It was so embarrassing!” Jonghyun cries, hiding his eyes with his hands. “It was all so sexy and fun and then suddenly a tidal wave of salt and sour down my throat and it just felt like it was never going to end.” He straightens and groans, scratching at his scalp with a sheepish smile. “Fortunately, I managed throw up on the floor rather than on his dick. But Minho felt so bad! Couldn’t really do much to comfort me though, you know, since he just kept cumming.”

Kibum covers up his discomfort by drinking from his coffee. “Why haven’t I heard this before?” he asks again. “It sounds rather traumatic.”

“It was just too much, I could barely look at MInho for the next few days. He just felt bad though, but, God, it was so embarrassing.”

“When was this?”

Jonghyun narrows his eyes in playful scrutiny. “Why exactly are you so curious about the time I almost threw up on my husband?”

“I’m just surprised you never told me. Were you engaged back then?”

“Nah, it was before we even mated.” Jonghyun’s eyes suddenly widen to saucers and he bends over the table so quickly his legs bump into the stand noisily. “Wait. Have you and your boyfriend mated?”

Heat flares over Kibum’s cheek and neck, along with the bile that had just risen from his intestines at the word boyfriend. “N-no!” He pulls down the collar of his shirt, first on the base of his throat to the left, and then to the right, exposing undamaged skin both times. “We haven’t done anything like that.”

Jonghyun blinks. “Why not?”

“We’ve only been dating for like two months.” Kibum picks at his shirt uncomfortably, then drinks from his coffee. He feels gross for saying the word dating. “You and Minho were together for over two years before you even started talking about it.”

Jonghyun picks up his hot chocolate and leans back in his chair. “More like three. But we were also young, Bum. We weren’t sure of our futures or anything. Nothing is more unstable than young college students.”

Kibum holds his breath. “But I’m not young anymore.”

“Exactly. You’re both adults. You’ve got a stable job. Does he?”

Kibum recalls the green card Jinki had left behind after their first night together. “Yeah. He works in advertising.” 

“You guys should talk about it. I mean, there’s no real rush but…” Jonghyun takes a loud breath, a smile curving over his lips. He looks up at Kibum and their eyes meet and his are shining. “It’s amazing.”

“Sex with an Alpha isn’t new to me anymore,” Kibum replies offhandedly. “Or biting.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Jonghyun shakes his head. “Well, the actual act is great, honestly. It feels really, really good. But it’s so much more than that, Bum.”

Kibum hesitates, his fingers scratching the styrofoam cup in his hands. “Then what is it?”

“It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world,” Jonghyun says breathily. “It’s like… like everything makes sense. Like every inch of your body becomes warm and your blood runs backwards--but like it was actually running backwards your whole life until that moment. Like it’s finally going the right way. Or like there was this huge hole in your chest that you didn’t know about which was suddenly filled up. I know it’s cliché, but it feels like that. It feels perfect.”

Kibum doesn’t know what to say so he just continues drinking his coffee.

Jonghyun is full of words. His voice is slow and thick, dripping like honey from his lips. “It’s amazing, Bum. And afterwards, it felt like there were no gaps between us. Like, you know how, during sex, you can confuse your body for the other person’s? My whole life became like that, like all of my gaps were filled by Minho and I filled up all of his. I didn’t think we could get any closer before that, but we did.” He raises a hand, fingers tracing the dark purple mark that just barely peeks out above the collar of his tee. “Everything fit together that day. All the insecurities I had about us just vanished; and, now, whenever I start to feel them again, I just touch it, and they go away.”

**

That Friday night Jinki texts Kibum around nine and asks if he can come over. The two haven’t had sex in almost a week, which is somewhat uncommon for them. Maybe Kibum’s suggestion of staying the night had bothered the Alpha a bit more than it usually did.

Kibum, a few chapters into a novel he really isn’t paying much attention to, lets Jinki know that sure he can come over, dog-ears the page and heads into his bathroom to shower. He turns on the water and strips while the water heats up, eyes meeting his reflection in the mirror after he pulls off his shirt. He stares at himself for a while, at his lean figure and small, pink nipples. At his dramatic jawline, high cheekbones and the scar which divides his eyebrow.

The mirror begins to fog, slowly narrowing down his reflection into a circle. At its center is his neck--long, slender. Unmarked. He raises a hand and presses his thumb to the left base of his neck, his index and middle finger on the opposite side. Jonghyun’s smile is tattooed on his pupils. The soft pink of his cheek, the tiny smile he probably had not even been aware of as he gushed about how content and how full he had felt when Minho marked him for the first time.

Kibum removes his hand from his neck and swipes it across the mirror. He stares into his own eyes and mutters, “I’m going to do it. I’m going to make Jinki bite me.”

It usually takes Jinki a bit more than a half hour for him to arrive after Kibum invites him over. Kibum showers in fifteen. He lays off the cologne and settles on an organic lotion he had splurged on a few weeks back. It smells softly of vanilla but tastes like nothing. He rubs it over his entire body until he is soft and pleasantly fragrant. He picks clothes which will be easy to take off. A pair of black dress pants and an oversized sweater that only sits on one shoulder and hangs off the other.

The bed is already made, the box of condoms out. He sets a bottle of lube on his night stand just in case. Fingers digging into the malleable plastic, he wonders if he’ll bleed. He’s been bitten casually before by Jonghyun, Taemin and a nameless Omega he had drunkenly had sex with back in college. He doesn’t remember either of the three making him bleed--or, if any did, it had been such an insignificant amount from a shallow wound that had sealed itself up before the sex had ended. He hasn’t made anyone else bleed aside from once when he got carried away with Jonghyun and a few tiny, almost insignificant red beads sprouted from his shoulder. He recalls the panic that had squeezed at his lungs as he licked the wound over and over again until the blood stopped forming. Jonghyun probably had not even noticed, since the wound had been on his back and he had been too distracted with pushing himself backward onto Kibum’s dick to register the feel of Kibum’s tongue at all.

It would probably hurt more. A wound as dark and large as the one Jonghyun regularly sports has to be made deliberately, teeth digging into the skin with the exact purpose of breaking blood vessels. That’s the whole point: the goal of the bite is for an Alpha’s saliva to enter the bloodstream of the Omega. The chemicals in the saliva trigger the release of hormones that Omegas will not and cannot create under any other circumstances. Hormones which attract them to their mate, which draw them phenomenally close to one another, according to Jonghyun.

As with Taemin, they alter the timing of the Omega’s heat and align the Omega to the clock of the Alpha. While Alphas don’t have the same monthly heat process Omegas do, they do have a sort of miniature heat of their own, a time in which they are more desirous of sex. It makes more sense when thought of through the lens of how Alphas used to have harems of their own--Omegas with whom they bore many children. The time when the Alpha wanted the most sex aligned with when the Omegas were most fertile. It also served as a preventive measure to keep Omegas within a harem from having sex with and bearing the children of other Alphas, as their Alpha or other haremmates were always desperate for sex at the same time. 

Of course, these things don’t matter to Kibum. He and Jinki have sex when either are in the mood and both available, and they aren’t trying to get pregnant. Jinki probably would not blink twice if Kibum has sex with someone else and, in all honesty, Kibum would feel the same in the reverse scenario.

He shakes his head. “This will change things,” he mumbles as he carefully combs his hair. He nods at his reflection in the mirror, pulls a chapstick from the drawer and applies it liberally to his lips.

_It’s like… like everything makes sense. Like every inch of your body becomes warm and your blood runs backwards--but like it was actually running backwards your whole life until that moment. Like it’s finally going the right way. Or like there’s this huge hole in your chest that you didn’t know about which is suddenly filled up._

Kibum knows about the hole in his chest. It’s shaped like Jonghyun but Jinki is going to close it.

Kibum is standing in his kitchen and leaning against his counter when Jinki knocks on the door. His ribcage digs into his pulsating heart as he pushes himself to his feet and shuffles toward the door. Jinki smiles at him when he pulls it open. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kibum echoes, stepping to the side so Jinki can enter. Jinki slides off his shoes and steps into the kitchen. Kibum shuts the door and leans against it.

Jinki furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Kibum nods. “Just. Ready.”

Jinki flushes. “O-oh?” He steps back toward the door, so close to Kibum their toes touch, and presses his hands on Kibum’s waist over the sweater.

Kibum pulls the sweater up, making Jinki’s hot hands fall on his waist. His back still on the door, he slides his hands around Jinki’s hips and squeezes Jinki’s ass. Jinki hiccups in surprise, inches closer and eases his hands upward to pinch Kibum’s nipples--not too hard this time. Kibum lets out a gasp, but it’s strained and Jinki notices.

“Are you okay?” he asks again.

“Just kiss me.” Kibum closes his eyes.

Jinki does, his dry lips meeting Kibum’s moist ones. Kibum opens his mouth and Jinki’s tongue falls in, lying over his bottom teeth for a moment before it finally starts to move and tangles with Kibum’s own. Kibum’s throat twitches and he raises own hand to the back of Jinki’s head, pulling him closer. Their hardening cocks touch through their pants and Jinki groans, removing one hand from Kibum’s nipple. A moment later the metallic sound of Jinki expertly unlatching his own belt rings in Kibum’s ears.

Jinki pulls out his tongue, sealing his lips repeatedly and noisily over Kibum’s as he pulls down his jeans and boxers. “I brought a condom this time,” he mumbles. He withdraws his mouth from Kibum’s and a moment later the sound of ripping plastic accompanies Kibum’s sharp intake for air as Jinki pinches his nipple again. He can feel the wetness collecting in his briefs, his skin beginning to stick to the soft cotton. 

The two seperate briefly as Jinki rolls the Alpha condom down the length of his cock and Kibum removes his pants and underwear and kicks them into the kitchen. Jinki pushes him against the door and Kibum locks his hands around Jinki’s shoulders as Jinki lifts him up by the thigh and shuffles closer. Kibum’s ankles meet around Jinki’s hips. Jinki’s cock prods the skin around his hole. Kibum’s fingers rub against the fabric of Jinki’s shirt and he remembers Jonghyun telling him about when he and Minho had fucked, almost fully-clothed.

This is slightly different, as they’re fucking against a door rather than a table and he and Jinki aren’t mated.

Finally, Jinki’s cock slides into his wet ass. They both groan, Kibum squeezing his muscles around the intrusion as Jinki pushes him against the door again and readjusts his position so he can thrust upward into him. 

Kibum grunts with the first thrust, which pushes his shoulder blades uncomfortably against the door. The rough fabric of the knit sweater will probably give him some kind of strange chafing if they continue like this, but he couldn’t care less. Jinki slides his tongue over Kibum’s neck, sucks a bruise onto the skin just beneath his jawline, then kisses him hard on the lips. Kibum pushes his tongue forward and Jinki sucks on it, then opens his mouth so their tongues noisily slide together in the air.

Jinki’s pace is ruthless and sure, prodding Kibum’s prostate with every movement. Perhaps the new position, the new location for their sex had given him the boost of confidence he had needed this whole time. Kibum has not even cum yet but he is sure this was the best sex they have had together. Surrendering his weight to Jinki, forcing the Alpha to hold him up and act against gravity, has somehow made everything sexier and faster and better. His orgasm is already twisting in his leaking cock and he hasn’t even done anything yet or touched himself. He feels like he’s going to cum and he realizes that now is the time.

“Jinki,” he whispers against Jinki’s lips, pushing one hand upward to touch the back of Jinki’s neck.

“Hmm?” Jinki breathes, moving his head to nibble at Kibum’s earlobe--which has him gasping. His ears are sensitive and that’s probably the only thing Jinki has picked up about what he enjoys during sex. He slides his tongue over the center of his ear and Kibum’s spine sends pleasure over every inch of his skin, through his every nerve and now his dick is leaking so severely the pre has begun to pool on the floor. He’s so goddamn wet with slick and sweat and his muscles are weak and warm and he’s going to cum and he has to cum so fucking bad.

“Jinki,” he hiccups, breath knocked out of him by a cruel push of Jinki’s cock. “Jinki… Jinki, fuck.”

“Hmm?”

His fingers dig into the back of Jinki’s neck. Jinki releases his ear and lets Kibum’s hand guide him to the exposed skin at the base of his neck. “Bite me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. yeah.
> 
> i'm actually like. really proud of this chapter. which is rare. i hope you liked it too. i wasn't going to end it there but it's already the longest chapter in this fic so far, and i thought this was an interesting place to end it so. i ended it there.
> 
> anyway, uh. if u follow me on tumblr/twitter you'll know that i'm like... not around anymore lol. this isn't bc i don't like shinee anymore or bc i want to remove myself from fandom, but a mental health hiatus. i've gone through lots of shit this year. honestly. i should have started a formal hiatus back in july rather than trying to maintain a presence for several more months and then dropping off the face of the earth when it got too much for me and worrying people but. that's what i did. i do want to apologize for that, and my lack of presence and ways to reach out to me. i've been trying to reduce the number of 'voices' in my life and just focus on myself and a very, very, very small group of friends. as in like one person. if you're someone with whom i used to talk or interact with in any way and i've been ignoring you, i do apologize, it's just been... a lot for me. everything is a lot for me right now.
> 
> that being said, i could use some support... small support. in a tiny way. just a 'good luck' or 'get well soon' message to me on twitter, or tumblr (ask box is closed but u can message me or tag me in a post). I'm not active on these sites currently but i do check them every once in a while to see what shinee is up to. i may not respond to you but... a short message like this would go a long way.
> 
> my life is changing because of meds and therapy and just because of life itself, which is making this a difficult and, honestly, scary time for me. every day is different and comes with its own challenges, and sometimes i can deal with them and othertimes i can't. i'm drowning myself in work while also trying to piece my life back together. i feel like i'm only living 15% of what i should be, but, compared to the 0% i felt i was living a few months back, it's still a massive improvement.
> 
> anyway, i'll stop gabbing about myself and just say. thanks. for reading this chapter and the others, for supporting me, for waiting. i hope ill be back in fandom soon, but, honestly, it still might be a while.


	5. Ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual i have lots to say but i'm going to say it at the end of the chapter.
> 
> jonghyun: i think (to) like someone is a blessing, even if it’s a one sided love. it’s not easy to like someone (though). it’s a really difficult thing to do.
> 
> http://fyjjong(.)tumblr(.)com/post/134926668238/blue-night-radio-151211-jonghyun-i-think-like

Kibum doesn’t know what he to expect, so when Jinki’s thrusting pauses and he lifts his head to meet Kibum’s eyes, Kibum’s not wholly surprised. Confusion pushes down Jinki’s brow and his open lips, wet with saliva. His hips still and the muscles in his arms relax. Kibum slides down on Jinki’s dick and lets out a hiccuping groan when his skin meets the base of Jinki’s cock. His fingers press into Jinki’s neck and the two stare at each other.

“Come on, Jinki,” Kibum mutters, leaning his head to the side to completely expose the side of his neck. His heart is pounding in his chest, sending flares of heat through his body. White teeth peek out past Jinki’s lips. “Bite me.”

Jinki’s fingers tighten over his thighs, pinching Kibum’s sensitive skin. His breath flares hot over Kibum’s cheek.

Kibum digs his heels into the small of Jinki’s back, urging him closer. He slides one hand from Jinki’s neck over his shoulder and presses it flat on Jinki’s sturdy chest. “Please, Jinki.”

“K-Kibum…”

“It’s easy,” Kibum says. He taps his fingers over Jinki’s neck to distract himself from the hurried, panicked tattoo of his heart. An uncomfortable sweat breaks over his skin. “Just bite me. Hard.”

Jinki, gaze fixated on the unmarked base of Kibum’s throat, gives a minute shake of his head. Kibum goes cold. He speaks before Jinki can. “Come on, Jinki,” he urges, voice lined with a strained chuckle. “It’ll feel good for both of us, I promise.”

Jinki shakes his head again and mutters, “No.”

Kibum forces a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about me or anything, Jinki. It’ll hurt but it’ll feel good, don’t you think so? Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to bite me.”

Jinki’s eyes flick upward. They’re hard and full of some emotion Kibum cannot place but knows he doesn’t like. His lungs twist into a knot around his heart. “Jinki…”

Jinki shakes his head and his grip on Kibum’s grip loosens. “No, Kibum.”

“It won’t affect you, Jinki,” Kibum says, the words rushing past his lips and wavering in the air. “N-not at all! Just… just do it, okay?”

A beat. “No, Kibum.”

The openings in his heart close in on themselves. The blood throughout his body stills. He feels like needles have been pushed through his every pore. “W-why, why not?” Kibum asks, lips curling into a soft smile.

Now, Jinki doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t love you, Kibum.”

“What does love have to do with anything?”

Jinki only repeats himself. “I don’t love you, Kibum.”

“So? So?” Something coils at the base of Kibum’s throat and behind his eyes. “Why does that matter?”

Jinki shakes his head. “No. I’m not going to make you suffer just because you don’t love me.”

Kibum inhales shakily. “I’m not going to suffer.”

“I don’t love you,” Jinki says. His fingers soften over Kibum’s thighs and he withdraws his hips, pulling his cock out from Kibum, who lets out a hiccuping gasp at the sudden release. Jinki holds onto his thighs as his feet touch the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor and he doesn’t release Kibum until he’s steady. “I don’t love you,” Jinki says again.

 

Biting down hard on his lip, Kibum raises a hand to Jinki’s clothed chest and pushes him. Jinki takes a step back without protest. He isn’t sure where to look; his pupils dart from Kibum’s eyes to his half-hard cock to the unmarked base of Kibum’s neck then back to his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jinki mumbles.

Kibum huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He hopes it makes him look confrontational, not like he’s trying to protect himself or shrink. “If you were really sorry, you’d just bite me like I want.”

Jinki blinks. “I don’t love you.”

“Is that the only thing you can say?” Kibum snaps, anger cutting through the sadness and confusion collecting in his throat. “What the fuck does love have to do with it?”

“You have feelings for me, don’t you?”

“What? No, I don’t--I don’t even know the first thing about you!”

“Then why…” Jinki’s voice falters. He rubs awkwardly at the base of his neck.

Kibum inhales deeply, pushing down the emotions rising in his system and threatening his eyes and voice. “Just go, okay?”

Jinki doesn’t need to be told twice. In half a second his jeans are back over his hips and Kibum, unwillingly, steps away from the door and past Jinki. Jinki eases his toes into his shoes and hasn’t even zipped up his pants before he’s gone.

Briefly, when his broad form takes up the threshold of the door, Kibum realizes that this is the last time he’ll ever see Jinki, but the door slams shut before the thought can really sink in.

And once it does, once the door shuts and Kibum is left alone in his apartment without a bite, with a hole in his chest the size and shape of his best friend, with his lover just having left for probably the last time, tears pour from Kibum’s eyes. He’s not entirely sure why.

**

The next few days are a blur of work and scarcely eating and staring at the unbroken skin of his neck and feeling the pain in his heart more powerfully than he has ever felt it before. Kibum hasn’t deleted Jinki’s number but Jinki had walked out with such finality Kibum knew there was no going back, yet he didn’t want to surrender it. The possibility of Jinki, of a stranger waltzing into Kibum’s life and fixing him with just a simple bite.

It had been such a pleasant promise.

He’s on his way back from work and the elevators broken so he has to take the stairs. He immediately undoes his suit jacket and loosens his tie with the first few steps for extra airflow against his skin.

When he reaches the third floor, however, an uncomfortable sweat forms in his underarms and at the back of his neck. Something thick and sticky gathers in the back of his throat and inches downward into his stomach. Kibum inhales through his nose and his mind catches up to his body.

Heat.

He pauses on the landing and looks at the numbers on the apartment door nearest the stairs. This is Taemin’s floor and the heat smells like him.

Kibum opens his mouth and tastes the air. The heat is somewhat stale, he realizes. Like it had already faded but Taemin had forgotten to open a window to air out his room. The smell was fermenting in the air as it made its way out into the hallway and the stairwell.

Kibum exhales and turns back up the stairs. His mind is stuck on Taemin and his skin still prickling because of the pheromones. His hand quivers as he pulls his key from his pocket and opens the door to his apartment.

After setting down his things and trading his dress shirt and trousers for a pair of sweats and a tee he snipped the sleeves off, he lies down on the couch. 

Kibum isn’t sure where the desire to talk to Taemin comes from, if it’s some side-effect of the pheromones or a legitimate desire emerging from the nervous coils of his stomach. But he feels it. Words pressing against the uneven sides of his throat like thorns on a lily--unexpected, confusing. He smells Taemin: his heat, his slick, his sweat, the chocolate energy bars in Kibum’s drawer, the soft leather of the planner he uses only to track Kibum’s and his own heat, his cheap shower gel.

Kibum slides into a pair of sandals, grabs his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter and leaves his apartment. He goes to a convenience store about a block away and six bottles of beer. The bottles clatter noisily in the black plastic bag on the way back.

Taemin’s recent heat is even more obvious to Kibum as he stands in front of Taemin’s door. It sticks to his skin like a hot syrup. Kibum’s heart pounds against his ribcage, erratic, and it bounds to the base of his throat when the door suddenly swings open.

Taemin’s eyes are wide and his mouth agape in shock. He’s wearing a gray tree and a pair of basketball shorts, and while he smells like his cucumber soap, his surroundings reek of heat. The smell strikes Kibum’s senses, forces him to close his eyes and shake away the buzzing over the surface of his brain. When he opens his eyes again, Taemin’s gaze is harsh.

“What are you doing here?” Taemin squares his shoulders, puffing out his chest like a bird of paradise. “My heat is over, if that’s why.”

“Y-yeah, it smells that way…” Kibum mutters. “I wanted to talk.”

Taemin’s nostrils flare, but he says nothing.

The beer bottles ring sing-song as Kibum raises the bag to shoulder-level. “Please?”

Taemin huffs, “Fine,” and steps back into his apartment. Kibum lowers his arm and the bottles clatter against his thigh.

“Can we actually go back to my place? The smell here…”

“I was going to go out to buy air freshener.”

“Air freshener?” Kibum bites back a remark about how it would only cover up the scent.“How about you open the windows? Some sunlight and fresh a--”

“No.”

Kibum blinks. “No?”

“You let an Alpha into this building. You made this place unsafe for me by spreading your legs for some strange Alpha. I’m not going to let anyone find out I’m here by letting my scent out the window.”

Kibum’s breath catches in the back of his throat. “It’s-- I.” He licks his lips. “Let’s go into my room then. We can clean this up later, okay?”

“The Alpha.”

“He’s not there. And he’s not going to come back. We broke up.”

Taemin’s brow furrows. “You were dating?”

Kibum’s mind jumps back to the lie he had told Jonghyun only a few days ago. His stomach churns. “No, we weren’t. But we’ve ended things. On a not-so-good note, so I don’t think he’ll ever want anything to do with me again.”

Taemin’s grip on the side of the door tightens. “You don’t know that.”

“I guess I don’t,” Kibum surrenders. He stares blankly at the familiar mess of Taemin’s apartment. There’s about six dirty socks strewn over the couch and coffee table in the living area as well as a sweatshirt turned inside-out. Three cereal bowls are stacked over one another in a precarious tower on the stained plaster breakfast bar.

Taemin steps backward. “We can talk here.” Running a hand through his hair, he continues, “or not at all.”

“Here is okay. I can help you clean.”

Taemin blinks, then nods and turns on his heel, striding back into his apartment. Kibum slides off his shoes and shuts the door behind him. He places the beer on the counter then thinks better of it and asks Taemin if he can put it in the refrigerator. It takes a second for Taemin to process the question and nod numbly. 

Kibum opens the refrigerator. It’s even more barren than Kibum’s, sporting only a few containers of flavored drinks and leftover takeout.

With the beer put away, Kibum asks and is given permission to pull a few cleaning supplies from beneath Taemin’s sink: a spray bottle full of cleaning solution, two unopened sponges and powder stain remover.

“Ok,” Kibum begins with an exhale. “Let’s start with getting your bedsheets cleaned.”

They strip Taemin’s bed and shove the contents into a black plastic bag. Mated omegas don’t smell as potently as those unmated, but Taemin had been in his bed the entire time without changing any of the covers. The smell stings the inside of Kibum’s nose so much he worries he might get a nose bleed. He wonders if Taemin had cleaned them at all in the past two months, apropos of his heat.

They pour vinegar over the sheets (Taemin didn’t have any baking soda and Kibum, honestly, didn’t want to leave him alone to fetch some from his own apartment) to mask the smell. Kibum offers to take the bag to the laundry room. Taemin rolls his shoulders in passive agreement. Taemin’s contagious anxiety has Kibum at a brisk pace once he leaves Taemin’s apartment until he catches himself and slows. If there were any Alphas in this building, they would surely know about it by now.

He wonders what Jinki had been doing in the building those months ago, then bites down on his lip. He’ll think about that some other time. Right now he needed to fix his relationship with Taemin.

Kibum isn’t sure why.

The two finish cleaning Taemin’s apartment in silence over the next two hours. Taemin starts in the bathroom and Kibum the bedroom. With the sheets gone, the smell has been reduced significantly but still lingers more forcefully than either likes. Kibum rubs down the bedframe and end table and vacuums the carpet (using the stain remover to remove something which he certainly hopes is a soda stain). He finds a dildo under the bed, still wet with slick, and reaches out a hand to pull it out before he catches himself.

Yeah, he’s certainly rammed that didlo in Taemin more than a few times, but he doesn’t want to do anything to test his boundaries with Taemin. Not today.

Pushing up to his feet, he shuffles to the bathroom and leans in, holding onto the door frame with two hands. Taemin is scrubbing toothpaste remnants from the sink. He must have caught Kibum’s approach in the mirror, as he catches Kibum’s gaze in the glass. Taemin’s eyes are hard.

“Um… I found your dildo under the bed.” Taemin doesn’t react, not even with the slightest twitch. Kibum’s not sure, again, why he expected Taemin to respond differently. They are adult Omegas and sex isn’t a stranger to them, with each other or with others, so embarrassment is out of the question. Maybe he was hoping for Taemin to look at him with any emotion, to give him a glance that isn’t steely and distant.

Taemin looks like he’s hiding, and Kibum isn’t sure how he’s supposed to approach. He clears his throat. “Do you want me to—”

Taemin, in a low voice, says, “I’ll wash it myself. Just leave it.” His head drops, eyes focusing on the stains in the sink. The sponge swipes broadly over the porcelain—too broad. His wrist thuds against the raised edge of the sink but Taemin doesn’t react.

“Right.” Kibum moves to turn around, but stops when Taemin speaks.

“Why did you do it?”

Kibum hesitates. “Do what?”

“Let that Alpha into here. Sleep with him.”

“I just wanted... I... he made me forget. For once.”

“About what?”

“Come on, you already know, don’t you?” 

Taemin raises his head and their eyes lock in the mirror. “Jonghyun.”

“Yeah. Ji—the Alpha helped me forget about him.”

Taemin turns back to the sink. His hand, clenching the countertop, turns white. “So whenever we slept together you were thinking about him, huh?”

An angry heat floods Kibum’s face. “It’s not like you were ever focused on me when we fucked, either.”

“What?” Taemin twists, turning in his heel to face Kibum. His brows look deeply etched into his face. “What are you saying?”

“Oh come on.” Kibum tosses his head back, running his free hand through his hair. “Come on! You never once touched me sober. Never. Like… Like I was never good enough for you unless your standards were knocked down by a bottle or two. Or when your heat made you too desperate to care.”

Taemin’s sponge lands on the floor with a cartoonish squish. He folds his arms protectively over his chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kibum’s fingers form into a fist.“Then tell me.”

Taemin inhales noisily. His eyes drop downward.

“Goddamnit, Taemin,” Kibum huffs. He feels weightless, or maybe he’s just lost his balance; he teeters backward and falls against the doorframe. Securing his hands on the post, he manages to keep from sliding to the floor. “Just fucking tell me. I didn’t ask for this.”

Taemin’s eyes flick upward to Kibum’s. They’re dark and hard.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Kibum shakes his head. “I didn’t ask to take on all of your trauma.”

“You did. The second you knocked on my door when I had my first heat here—” Taemin raises his arm, pointing toward his apartment entrance “—you asked. You asked, and you kept on asking.”

Kibum’s brow furrows. “N-no. No. I could just fucking smell it, and you invited me inside! It was just sex.”

Taemin drops his arm. His breath shakes. Like he’s trying to laugh but his lungs are too strained. “You thought that helping a clearly mated Omega through their heat would be okay? Me? Standing at that fucking door, this giant black fuck of a bruise clearly fucking visible, in an apartment that was literally just a fucking mattress on the floor… you looked at me like that and thought it was going to be just sex?

“Why did you think I hesitated the way I did? Because it would be sexy or something? Why do you think I insisted that you not fuck me from behind? What about holding my hand right up to my neck the entire time, huh? What did you think that was? Some kind of asphyxiation kink I was too scared to actually try?”

“Tae—”

“No!” Taemin slams his foot against the bathroom floor. “You shut up, and you fucking listen to me. I am so goddamn tired of you making up your own stories for me while all you ever do is whine to me about your stupid, stupid crush or whatever! Fucking listen to me, for once.”

But he doesn’t say anything else, only stands there staring at Kibum across from him. Taemin’s body moves with every heaving breath like he’s taking in so much oxygen his lungs can’t hold it all by themselves and it instead moves into his stomach and heart and when he breathes out even his ribs seem to shrink. Kibum doesn’t say anything either, but listens to the ragged sound of Taemin’s own breathing.

Eventually, he talks.

“We were just going to fuck.” He says on an exhale. “We met at this shitty bar and I looked at him and he looked back at me and I knew he was just as desperate as I was. So I bought him a drink, and then we talked and we drank a bit more. Neither of us were drunk, just buzzed enough to think sleeping with a stranger was a good idea. At least, he didn’t look drunk and I certainly wasn’t. Maybe tipsy. Maybe we were both tipsy, but that’s it.”

“He was an Alpha, right?”

Taemin casts him a glare. Expecting some smart or dismissive reply, Kibum braces himself.

Taemin doesn’t give him anything like that. He only sighs, “yeah,” and continues. “We took a taxi back to my place. My old place. Not here. And there was no point in stalling, so we got right to it. Within five minutes we were on my bed, and he was behind me.”

He gaps again for air and his once-sure grip on the countertop loosens. His hand slides first into his pocket and then out again to cross his chest and hold his opposite forearm. “And it was fine. It was all fine.” Taemin’s voice curves upward as though in disbelief. “It was totally normal sex. I came and then he came on my back and we hadn’t even moved. I was still trying to catch my breath when he bit me.” 

Taemin’s hand is at the base of his neck, curved so the heel of his palm is just short of his jugular. He bites down on his lip, eyes closed, and his fingers squeeze down on the base of his neck. “He bit me. He bit me and I didn’t even know that he had. Not at first. It felt good. It hurt but it was this good pain. It felt good. It felt good and I didn’t realize he had broken the skin until I felt...felt my blood run down my skin.

“I screamed. I didn’t know what was going on or why he had bitten me. And he stopped. Took his mouth off me. I was still trying… trying to understand what had happened when I heard the front door slam shut.”

Kibum inhales. His mind is spinning and he’s never seen Taemin look like this before. Pale, one arm curved over his chest toward his neck while the other protects his abdomen. “Taemin, I… I had no idea.”

“You never asked. You never once even tried to.” Taemin drops his hand from his neck. He stares down at his palm as though it were still red with blood. “You just made up this story all on your own. What even was it? That I was dating someone but once things started getting serious—once I let myself be bitten—he realized how fucked up I am and ran off? That’s what you thought happened, right?”

Kibum goes cold. “What was I supposed to think?”

“How about just asking rather than guessing?”

“Would you have even been able to tell me if I had?”

“I-I don’t know. Probably not.” Taemin’s fingers tighten around his side, his shirt visibly wrinkling beneath. “But maybe I would’ve been able to say enough. Just enough for you to know what didn’t happen.”

“Taemin, have you told anyone else about this?”

Taemin sucks in a mouthful of air. “My family. But they don’t really get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re all Alphas. My mom, dad, brother—everyone.” He finally unwraps his arms from across his body and hides them in his back pockets. His eyes wander across the floor. “I broke a really long tradition of Alphas marrying Alphas and having more Alphas. The only thing my family knows about Omegas is we can’t turn into wolves.”

“But this doesn’t have anything to do with that,” Kibum says as he crosses the distance between them.

Taemin sighs. “Yeah, it does.” He raises his head and finally he and Kibum make direct eye contact. “You don’t get it. You’ve never been mated.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Taemin hesitates, his eyes flitting from Kibum’s own, to the floor, and then back to Kibum. He moves his hands to his front pockets and draws his shoulders so close together it must hurt. “Mating is… it’s nothing at the moment. I didn’t know what it meant or what it was. And it didn’t feel different from any other injury. It never felt different and I didn’t feel different until the next morning.”

“What happened?”

Taemin deflates, slumping against the countertop. “I wanted him.”

Kibum’s brow furrows. “The Alpha?”

“I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything else in my life. I could smell him so clearly. Like every other scent in the world had suddenly vanished and his was the only one left. I could almost see it—it was that strong. I could have followed it all the way back to his fucking place. My bed smelled like him, my whole apartment, me. I smelled like him.” Taemin raises one hand to his mouth, curving his palm over his lips. “I felt like I needed him. This Alpha who had fucking bit me, made me bleed, and then ran the fuck off. I wanted him.”

Come on, Jinki. Bite me.

“Taemin…”

“He probably just wanted me that whole night! He was probably staring at my neck that whole fucking time, thinking about it. That he could fucking ruin me so easily!”

Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to bite me. 

“Can you calm down a bit, Taemin?”

Taemin’s eyes narrow. “Every time I have sex with you, it’s because I want him. I’ll admit it. My body aches and stings every time you touch me because you’re not the fucking asshole who bit me. He’s inside me. His parasites. In my blood.”

It’ll feel good for both of us, I promise.

“That’s why I drink, so it’s less. Because I want to be there for you the way I’m supposed to and it makes me numb. I did it for you. So I could be your fuck-buddy, and your other Omega friend. I just want to be normal again.”

“I didn’t know, Taemin.”

“You never asked. You’re selfish. You think you’re the only one suffering in the whole world.” Taemin hesitates. “You keep spouting all this bullshit about how much you love Jonghyun, but the truth is all you’ve been doing is hurting him.”

Anger burns in Kibum’s chest. “I have never hurt Jonghyun. I would never hurt him.”

“But you hate him. Some part of you must hate him, right? He married someone else. Someone else is beside him and you hate that. What’s going to happen when they move further away? When they start a family together? You’re going to hate all Jonghyun’s children like you hate his husband and him, and you’re just going to keep spewing lies. The lies are going to keep building up inside of you until you explode—and Jonghyun is going to suffer because of it.” 

Turning back to the sink, he drops his eyes and says, “Now please leave me alone.”

 

**

On Sunday, Kibum and Jonghyun meet in their usual café. Kibum, five minutes late, spies Jonghyun sitting at a small round table near a large window. He’s in a dark turtleneck sweater that he’s pulled past the heels of his palm. His eyes shine as Kibum sits across from him. “I got you a drink,” he says. “Mocha, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Kibum reaches for the coffee closest to him and drinks. It’s hot and warm but settles in his stomach like a rock. “You look good.”

Jonghyun smiles his classic smile, white teeth and pink gums and eyes curving into crescents beneath black bangs. “Thank you. I’d say the same, but you look really tired…”

Kibum nods. “It’s been a long week.”

“Has work been bad? Really busy?”

Kibum’s heart feels like it’s barely beating. Maybe he left it at home. “No, work’s been alright.”

“The Alpha, then? Are you guys doing okay?” Jonghyun’s concern is earnest and reflects clearly in his eyes as he leans halfway over the table.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Bum.” Jonghyun leans back. He scratches his fingers against his drinks. “Break-ups are always hard.” 

“Jjong, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Kibum had hoped they would have more time. That Jonghyun might have something else to talk about and he would just go on and on about it in that excited way of his. He’d chuckle at himself and wave his hands around and hide his lips behind his palm when people started to stare. He’d look at Kibum with stars in his eyes.

But the Jonghyun sitting across from him is the kindest person Kibum has ever known. And Kibum doesn’t want to hate him. He doesn’t want to hurt him.

“W-what is it?”

“Jonghyun, I’m sorry.”

“About what? Bum, you haven’t done anything wrong! I love you! You’re my best friend.”

The base of Kibum’s throat feels like it’s hardening into stone. “I love you too.”

Jonghyun brings his hand across the table and places it atop Kibum’s wrist. “You can tell me anything. Any problem you have. I’m always here for you.”

Kibum inhales. “I already told you.”

Jonghyun’s brows nearly meet, his face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“My problem. I already told you.” Jonghyun doesn’t react, like he doesn’t understand. “My problem is that I love you.”

The fingers tighten around Kibum’s wrist. “H-how is that a problem?”

His words feel heavy and twisted and tear up his throat as he pushes them upward. “I love you like how you love Minho.”

In the back of his mind, Kibum thinks that he would never have imagined himself confessing in this way. His first idea of confessing was when the two of them were lying in bed in their shared room and Kibum would ask if Jonghyun was still awake and Jonghyun would say yeah, what’s up and Kibum would reply I love you. Or maybe they’d do a few dates first and then Kibum would whisper it in Jonghyun’s ear after they shared a soft kiss under starlight or beside a fountain that gushed water like it was singing. Or Kibum would give it as a gift in the shape of a silver necklace. Or they’d be older and Kibum would give Jonghyun his love with a side of champagne on his lips.

The most important part of Kibum’s imagined confessions was that, after the shock had faded, Jonghyun would say I love you too.

Jonghyun’s hand leaves his wrist. “What?”

“It’s true. I’ve loved you since… I don’t even know. I don’t even remember anymore.”

Jonghyun pulls his arms toward his chest, wrapping them around himself. “Kibum, I—”

“No, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel the same way about me.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“Because things aren’t right the way they’re going. This isn’t fair to either of us. It’s not fair to you if you don’t know how I really feel. And I can’t get over you when you’re a constant part of my life.”

Inhaling, Jonghyun turns his eyes to the ceiling. His white have turned a soft, watery pink and it feels like Kibum has been stabbed. “So, so…” Jonghyun’s figure shakes. “This is it?”

Numb, Kibum nods. “I think this has to be.”

Jonghyun sniffles loudly. “Well, I don’t think this could get any worse.” He pulls his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to text Minho to come get me.”

“Do you want me to wait with you?”

Jonghyun shakes his head. His cheeks, nose and chin have all turned a dark shade of red. “No, you don’t have to. He’s not far from here.”

“I don’t want to leave you here crying by yourself.”

Jonghyun laughs weakly and raises a hand to wipe the tears from his eyes while the other types out his text. “Is everyone staring at us?”

Kibum, resting his arm on the back of his chair, looks around the rest of the café. There’s only ten or so other customers, and Kibum meets the eyes of one of them before they turn and hide their face behind their long hair. “Just one person, I think.”

“We probably look like we’re breaking up. Like you just dumped me.”

I would never, ever dump you. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jonghyun’s hands slide down to curve around his abdomen. “You know, there was something I wanted to tell you today, too.”

“What is it?”

One corner of Jonghyun’s lip moves upward as though pulled by a string. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” If Kibum’s heart hadn’t stopped before, now, surely, it’s frozen. “Congratulations.”

Jonghyun scoffs. “It must hurt you to say that, huh?”

“Not… I don’t know.” He looks into Jonghyun’s eyes, shining with tears. “But you’ll be a good dad. I know that. You’ll be a really good dad.”

Again, Jonghyun wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “Thanks.” His phone trills and Jonghyun looks down at it for a moment before rising to his feet. “Minho’s here.”

Kibum feels tight, like his entire body has been rolled into a ball the size of his fist. “Ok. Stay safe.”

Jonghyun looks down at him from where he stands, and Kibum looks up. They stare at each other for a moment that stretches out long and thin, like a shining, bright ribbon.

“You know,” Jonghyun begins, his voice choked and wet, “you’ll be a good dad too someday.”

Kibum doesn’t even have a chance to respond before Jonghyun cuts the ribbon and walks out of the café.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now it's the end of the chapter.
> 
> firstly, if you haven't read my tumblr post about my fanfics: http://professorjjong(.)tumblr(.)com/post/171471268433/bout-my-fanfics
> 
> so, the next and final chapter, which is going to be shorter (hopefully) and more like an epilogue, will be the last thing i'll ever post as professorjjong.
> 
> it's crazy to think about. that i'll be leaving behind this identity that i carried with me for so many years. but, truthfully, i feel like i must do it.
> 
> this chapter took long to get up than i originally thought bc i had (another) breakdown over the summer. my dr switched my meds so i'm okay now. i hope you like this chapter. i hope you remember how important love is.


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